A Love So Broken
by mafaldac
Summary: A story about a love broken by life. By lies and betrayal. By accidents and stupidity. A story about one boy and one girl hitting the bottom and climbing their way back up. ExB/AH Written based on WitFit prompts beginning July 17, 2012 .
1. Chapter 1

7/17/2012: **Dialogue Flex**: "I don't have time for this right now," he said.

* * *

Complacency in a marriage is the worst kind of betrayal.

It cuts deeper than any knife and leaves bruises that exist beneath the skin. Bruises that hurt so deeply you're afraid they might never fade.

There is no identifying reason for it. And that's what makes it worse. It happens gradually, building slowly, until it owns you.

Until your entire life is ruled by it.

And I never thought it would happen to me.

I never imagined my husband and I would reach a place where we were nothing more than roommates who went through the motions of having an actual marriage.

But somehow, we did…

.

.

.

"What time will you be home?" I asked. It was the simplest of questions, one I didn't think he would mind.

Or so I thought.

"I don't have time for this right now," he said. In _that _voice. The one he'd developed slowly, but steadily, over the last year. The one that cut. The one that spoke of annoyance.

I closed my eyes and tried to keep myself from falling apart. _That _voice made everything hurt. Everything he did lately made me hurt.

I had no idea if he cared anymore.

I took a deep breath in, and then let it out, trying to keep my voice steady. "I know you're busy. I just wanted to know if I should have dinner ready at the usual time, or if you're going to be late…"

I could hear him talking in the background, and I knew—I _knew_—he wasn't listening to me, but still, I waited for an answer.

"Edward?" I prompted, checking to see if he was still on the line.

"I really don't know and I have to be in a meeting in two minutes. If I'm not home, just put the shit in the oven for me. I'll talk to you later."

"Okay—" I started say, wanting so badly to tell him I loved him. If only to see if he would return the sentiment. The only response was the sound of dead air.

That was how it all began.


	2. Chapter 2

7/18/2012: **Word Prompts**: _**Pollute**_, dilute, salute

* * *

I didn't know.

I _should _have known.

I _should _have realized the second that door closed behind her what a mistake I was making by letting her leave.

In my too-young and too stubborn mind, there was no reason to chase after her, though. I was all she had back then. I thought she needed me. That she wouldn't be able to survive on her own.

I was even angry at her for the dramatic exit. For the things she'd said and the way she claimed I hurt her. In my eyes, I had done nothing wrong.

I worked hard. I provided a home for us. I put food on the table and clothing on our backs.

She had everything she could have ever wanted. And I told her as much.

She said I didn't understand. She said lots of things that day. And I listened. I listened to her cry and beg and tell me that a home and food and clothing weren't what was important to her.

Eventually, I watched her shoulders fall in defeat when the tears and pleas made no difference. Because she was right; I didn't understand.

I didn't _see_.

With my arms crossed over my chest, I watched her pack a bag. I told her she was being ridiculous. I even scoffed at her when she said 'I can't do this anymore, I love you, but I love me more.'

I laughed when I heard her car start in the driveway. I thought she was bluffing. I thought she'd be back by morning.

I was sure of it.

Every morning after that day, I was sure. _That _was the day she'd be back. She would apologize, and everything would be fine again. We would go back to the way things had been before.

She just needed time. Women were moody.

One day turned into two, though. And two days turned into a week. A week turned into three and then it had been a month.

I didn't call her once.

As far as I was concerned, it was _her _who had done me wrong, not the other way around.

I lived those days, weeks and eventually, months after she left inside a bubble of denial I'd created all on my own. It was more intricate than any building I had ever designed, polluted in layer after layer of untruths about who I had become and what I'd actually done simply by doing nothing at all.

I'd let the one and only thing that had always been good in my life slip through my fingers, and I wasn't sure there was any way to get her back.


	3. Chapter 3

7/19/2012: **Word Prompt**: Cardboard

* * *

It wasn't until the divorce papers arrived by messenger at my office that I finally began to open my eyes.

Seeing our marriage described as _irretrievably broken _was like a blow to the head.

My stomach heaved. I choked and bent over the garbage can next to my desk and the lunch I'd eaten less than an hour before came back up. My vision blurred until stars danced behind my lids as I grabbed for my phone, not bothering at all to take the time to scroll to her name; I just dialed the number from memory.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.

I needed to talk to her.

It rang three times; each one stretched longer until it felt like an eternity. And then the beep.

_Hi, this is Bella. I can't come to the phone right now, leave a message and I'll get back to you. Bye!  
_  
I hung up and immediately dialed her number again. The second call went straight to voicemail; so did the third, fourth and fifth.

Which meant she had turned off her phone after seeing it was me. She was purposely avoiding me. She didn't want to talk to me.

Not now, and possibly not ever again.

I just barely stopped myself from getting in the car and driving to Forks to search her out so that I could…I didn't even know. I just wanted to do _something_. Anything. I wanted to demand that she sit down and explain _why_. I wanted her to tell me every single thing I had done to break us, what I had done to break _her_. But I knew Bella wasn't the type to be bullied; especially not by me.

Plus, she'd already tried to talk to me. To tell me what she felt. And I hadn't listened. I had laughed at her.

I'd been such a fucking fool.

It was no wonder she wouldn't speak to me.

Somehow I managed to finish my workday before moving blindly to my car and heading home. Ha. Home. What a joke. Our house wasn't a home anymore.

When I arrived, I knew she'd been there as soon as the garage door opened in front of me.

The cardboard box was gone.

The one full of Charlie's old fishing gear that had been with her since the day we cleaned out his house after the funeral. I remembered they were the only things she insisted on keeping, even though she didn't fish and hated the water. She said she might change her mind someday. She did that a lot, changed her mind about things. It was one of the things I loved most about her.

I just never imagined she'd changed her mind about me, too.


	4. Chapter 4

7/20/2012: **Word Prompt**: Gloomy

**Plot Generator—Phrase Catch**: Let go of your inhibitions.

* * *

Inside the house, I could still smell her scent lingering in the foyer. My feet were hard on the stairs as I climbed quickly, my heart pounding, and ran for our bedroom.

Nothing seemed out of place until I went to the closet. Empty hangers in disarray were all that filled her side. Like she'd grabbed and pulled and tried to get everything out as fast as possible. It wasn't like Bella to leave a mess behind…unless she had a reason to.

And if she thought I might intercept her here, in our home, doing this, I knew I was that reason.

I already knew she didn't want to speak to me, now I was positive she didn't want to see me either.

I couldn't say that I blamed her.

My steps were much softer as I made my way in a circle around the room. Her perfumes and lotions and girly shit were gone from the bathroom counter. Her bedside table was clear and sunlight shining through the window highlighted the rectangle of clear wood where her book would normally be. Her jewelry box lay open on the dresser, empty but for one single diamond ring and the band she promised to wear forever.

My vision blurred again and I backed up, my body falling heavily to the bed. I looked down at my own hand, feeling the weight of the ring I still wore. The ring that at one time had symbolized her love for me.

Did I even have the right to wear it anymore? I wasn't sure.

My hand closed into a fist as I stood, angry, confused and lost. I roared. The jewelry box went flying, landing on the carpet splintered and broken. Her rings rolled in opposite directions across the carpet. A symbol of what was happening to us now.

She was gone.

I kicked that box until it was unrecognizable. Until I couldn't breathe and tears finally found their way down my cheeks.

My anger didn't last, though the pain remained.

Downstairs, the only remnants of Bella were the wedding photos still in their spot on the mantle. Her looking so beautiful in white and me smiling like the lovesick nineteen year old I was. That day had been so gloomy at the start, all rainy and cold for a June afternoon. I remembered her tears and worries that it would all be ruined. How she'd called me over and over that morning. But it was like something—or someone—had seen what was going to happen that day and redrawn the sky for us until the clouds were gone and the sun was shining down and everything was perfect again.

How could it have been only a few years ago that things were so good? How had we gotten to this place so quickly?

I went to the kitchen next, straight to the low cabinet with the bottles. A dark glass of sin slid down warm as I went back to the living room. I sat down on the couch, glass hanging between my open legs by the tips of my fingers. Another swig went down smoother, and so did the one after that until the glass was empty and my head was heavy.

I knew where Bella was. I knew all along she'd gone to Forks and was likely with the only family she had left.

Alice.

Their parents had died less than six months apart from each other, during our senior year of high school. And after, most times, it wasn't uncommon for both girls to stay at our house. My parents loved Bella, and by extension, her little sister. Even when we were fifteen and touching inappropriately over the clothes in their basement, my parents still loved her. She made everyone love her.

I wondered if she'd talked to them. If they knew what was happening to us. To me.

I'd spoken to my mom a handful of times since Bella left, and she hadn't said a word. Perhaps she was waiting for me to admit what I had done wrong, just like always. She had this uncanny ability to know when I was hiding something, and eventually I always spilled because I couldn't handle the pressure.

I never could handle feeling guilty.

I went back to the kitchen and took my second drink straight from the bottle. The more I drank, the more the room spun. I hadn't eaten since lunch, and lunch had come back up. The refrigerator shelves were empty. I hadn't shopped since she left. The bottom shelf still held my dinner from weeks before, covered in aluminum foil and a post-it note. Bella's name with a heart underneath. I hadn't been able to throw it away. And just looking at it now made me feel even sicker.

I wanted to call Alice. I just needed to know that Bella was safe, at least.

It took me three more swigs before I gained the courage to dial. Alice, unlike her sister, picked up on the first ring.

"Edward." Her voice wasn't soft or hard, just accusatory. And so much like her sisters it made my chest hurt.

I was quiet until I got ahold of myself and then, "How is she?"

She sighed and her tone softened. "What have you done?"

My jaw clenched and I sucked in a deep breath. "I didn't do anything, Alice." My voice was pleading, lost. I sounded like a little boy.

"Exactly. You didn't do anything."

That was like a punch to the gut. I hadn't done anything.

"Tell me she's okay."

"I can't do that."

"You can, you just won't."

"No, I mean I can't tell you she's okay because she's _not _okay, Edward."

"I got papers today."

"I know."

"I love her, Alice."

"Then show her, Jackass."

"How?"

She didn't answer. She didn't have to. This wasn't her mess to clean up. It was mine.


	5. Chapter 5

7/21/2012: **Word Prompt**: Foundation

* * *

Those papers in my office were like a plague.

I'd stuffed them deep into the furthest place I could find, hoping the old adage would hold true: out of sight out of mind. But they were always there, at the forefront. Haunting me. Calling my name.

I couldn't focus on anything else.

It was bad enough that I had to force myself out of bed and into the shower every morning. That my clothes were wrinkled in places that used to be crisp. That I was losing weight. And that the bags under my eyes grew deeper and darker with each day that passed.

Because Bella did that. She went to the dry cleaner. She made dinner every night and breakfast on Sunday. She woke me up in the mornings with fresh coffee to start my day. They were things so small and insignificant I didn't know I could miss them, but I did.

I began going through the hours between eight and five on autopilot. I put on a smile when it was necessary. Spoke in meetings when I had no other choice, but I wasn't the same.

And people noticed. The rumors had started.

I heard the whispers, but I ignored them. I saw the unasked questions in their eyes and left them unanswered. It was nobody's business but my own.

Until it was Aro noticing and asking the question everyone was dying to hear the answer to. "Edward, son, what's going on with you?"

Aro had asked me to join the Volturi Foundation right out of college. During an internship my senior year, I'd gained his attention with some of my design work and he'd taken me under his wing. Once I graduated, he offered me a full-time position and I pretty much became his right hand man. He was like a second father to me, and I loved it. This was my dream.

I had been sketching and designing and imagining buildings since as far back as I could remember. I used to get in trouble for drawing them wherever inspiration struck. The walls, my parents' important papers. Anywhere, really.

Throughout my first year with the firm, I'd worked morning, noon and nearly every single night. I was like a sponge, taking everything in. Every bit of knowledge and advice. Earning the respect I hoped to one day have and making a career for myself that would keep Bella and I comfortable for the rest of our lives.

But sitting there at that moment, I realized how much none of my accomplishments meant. I'd gained attention and notoriety professionally, but personally, I had let everything go to shit.

Aro was still waiting patiently for an answer. I cleared my throat and straightened my tie, deciding it was best to be honest. "Just some things going on at home, sir."

"None of that sir business here, Edward. It's not like you," he motioned to me and my less than stellar clothing choices from that morning. "To be so…sloppy. You've been zoning out in meetings, and you're not usually this argumentative with other employees. People are beginning to notice."

I sighed, staring down at my shoes in shame. "I know."

He hummed and tapped his fingers on the desk. "You know, you've been here for a while and haven't taken a single vacation. Why don't you take a few weeks off?"

My eyes snapped to his. I instantly wanted to wave him off and tell him no. I couldn't take vacation, because vacation meant being home. Alone. Dwelling. But the look in his eyes told me this wasn't something up for debate.

"It'll be good for you, trust me. Take some time. Get yourself together, and come back here in two weeks with a clear head."

"Yes, sir," I answered quietly, though I was sure that two weeks would do nothing to clear my head.

I stood and turned to leave, feeling dismissed. His voice stopped me at the door and I turned. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No," I choked out, leveling my gaze on him. It was the weakest he'd ever seen me, and the surprise on his face was evident. "This is my fault."

He was quiet for a few moments, fingers still tapping. I gripped the doorknob tightly, feeling the cool metal cut into my palm.

"Edward, you know I think of you as a son. So, forgive me if I overstep, but if this is about Bella. Well, I'll say this: I've seen the two of you together. Love like that doesn't fizzle. Go make it right."

He was the second person that week to tell me this. First it was Alice. The problem was…I still had no idea where to begin.

* * *

**First of all I want to say thank you to everyone who's reading...I had no idea one little teaser on The Fictionators would bring so much attention! I don't know if I need to say it, but these WitFit's are not beta'd and unplanned for the most part. So I just ask that you bear with me while I figure this whole thing out.**


	6. Chapter 6

7/23/2012:** Word Prompt**: Ultra / **Dialogue Flex**: "Do you need anything else?" she asked.

* * *

With nowhere to go, my days and nights turned into an affair with warm, dark liquid. _She _was all I had left. And she slid down so easily now, pushing the pain away until all I felt was dizziness. Until I was talking to nobody but the walls and the girl in white in the pictures on our mantle, asking her what I had done and begging her to come back.

Sometimes I swore I could hear her talking from the kitchen. Or giggling from inside the closet like she used to when she was feeling feisty and just wanted me to catch her. My heart would jump into my throat and I would run, stumbling and searching, only to find silence and emptiness.

The alcohol helped. I was in deep, and getting deeper every day, because while Bella might have been gone, the ghost of her still remained inside our home.

Inside _me_.

Consciously, I knew she wasn't coming back, though. She had already signed the papers, and she wanted nothing. No money. No property. She just wanted it done. Over. She wanted to be rid of me.

Forever.

And I just wanted to be finished hurting her. I wanted to give her what she was asking, and I knew that the longer I sat contemplating where our life had ended up instead of signing my name to those papers, the longer I continued to hurt her by prolonging the inevitable.

The problem was that every time I was brave enough to pull them out and pick up a pen to sign, my hand shook so badly I couldn't hold on. I sat down once, twice…a hundred fucking times.

And I _tried_.

But I knew if I wrote my name there, next to hers, it would be the end. There'd be nothing left that connected us but faded memories and promises that no longer held any meaning.

So I forced myself to stop hiding them. I left them in plain view on the coffee table, with the pen sitting on top. I needed the reminder that they were there, waiting on one thing. Me. That _she _was waiting; for me to step up and do the right thing.

I stared at them for hours. I swore at them. At myself. I drank until I couldn't read the words on the page. I drank until I couldn't lift myself from the floor.

I drank until all the pain went away.

I had no idea how many days it had been, or when the last time I'd eaten anything was. I didn't care, either.

Deep down, I kept hoping for one of those mind changes of Bella's that I loved so much_. One more day_, I thought. One more day might help. I kept wishing for her to show up on our doorstep, apologizing and begging and then jumping into my arms and kissing me. I would wrap myself around her and kiss her until we couldn't breathe, and then I'd take her upstairs and show her for hours just how much I loved her.

The phone rang constantly. I only half-listened. Emmett. Rosalie. My mom. My dad. On a loop. Mom begged me to answer. Dad tried to be firm. Emmett was…Emmett. Rosalie was cold.

No Bella.

I hadn't been able to bring myself to sleep in our bed because it no longer felt like _our bed_. I'd just been passing out wherever I landed.

At some point, that must have been the couch because I woke up face-down to the sound of pounding. On the door. On the windows. Inside my head. Every single one felt like it was hammered straight into my brain.

"Go away," I mumbled, tossing a pillow toward the noise. I was disoriented and a little confused.

"Fuck you, Edward! Don't make me break one of your windows because you know I will!" Emmett hollered back, his fists punctuating every word against my front door.

He and I had become friends after being paired up as roommates during freshman year at U-Dub. Those administrators had no idea the trouble they caused by introducing the two of us. We got into some real shit back then, and we'd stayed friends. Best friends, even. But I was a man, and there were some things you didn't want your friends to see.

Mainly, weakness.

I had to pull it together. He couldn't see me like this. Nobody could.

I rolled over, gripping my head in my hands as I attempted to sit up. The room spun circles around me. "Just…give me a second," I called out.

It was too late.

The kitchen window shattered behind me, and glass sprinkled the floor. The back door opened, and I stood too quickly, my mouth open in surprise. My balance shifted as dizziness suddenly took over, and I ended up right back where I was.

Emmett's footsteps were loud, breaths heavy as he came into the living room and stood over me. "I hope you know I'm not paying for that shit," he said, shaking his hand out a couple of times as his eyes moved around the room. "Jesus Christ what have you done?"

He kicked an empty bottle on the floor as he came closer. I looked around to see what he was seeing. I felt sick. Empties were everywhere. Beer, whiskey, tequila. I even remembered drinking Bella's _Arbor Mist _at some point. And that shit was just terrible. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Mick-Ultra? Are you kidding me?" Emmett asked, taking a seat and picking up another bottle. "Is it really that bad?"

"I drank everything else," I said in explanation, shrugging my shoulders.

He stared at me, but I couldn't look at him. I lowered my pounding head into my hands.

"You look like shit."

"Why are you here, Emmett?"

"It's been three weeks!" He threw his hands up in the air and slapped them back down on the leather armrests. I winced at the sound. "You don't pick up the phone. You don't answer the door. You didn't show up back at work. We were worried!"

"Three week—" I froze, closing my eyes and trying to remember what day it was. No way had it been three weeks. I couldn't believe it. "Stop fucking with me, Em. It hasn't been three weeks."

"What reason would I have to lie to you right now?" He looked toward the door and pointed to the mail I hadn't collected littered all over the floor. "When's the last time you looked around? Turned on the television? Gone outside? And where is your car?"

I was so confused. I had no idea how to answer any of his questions. It was the last one that really got me, though. "What do you mean where's my car?"

"It's not in the driveway."

"Yes it is." I stood up slowly and walked to the picture window that looked out on our front yard, peeling the curtains apart so I could see. I knew—at least I thought I knew—that my car was parked there.

But it wasn't any longer.

Emmett sighed and stood up, removing his coat. "Go take a shower and get yourself together. You stink. I'll start with this." His hands motioned in a huge circle around the messy room. "And I'll call the police and see if we can find out where your car is."

"It was there," I said, feeling utterly defeated.

I didn't even care about the very real possibility that my car could've been stolen. I just did as he told me, walking to the stairs and going up.

* * *

**thanks to those of you who are reading. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

7/24/2012: **Plot Generator—Idea Completion**: Raising the stakes.

* * *

The warm water of the shower felt good on my achy body. Everything hurt. My muscles burned. I stayed under the spray for a long time, letting the water soothe and calm me until I felt like I could breathe again.

I scrubbed everywhere and washed my hair, trying to ignore the fact that even _this _felt different now.

The clutter that usually surrounded the inside of our shower was gone. There were no more frilly lotions or smelly shampoos. No bright pink razors or long brown hairs in the drain. It was just me, and though it'd been months since the last time Bella was here, it was like I was seeing everything fresh. With new eyes.

I shut off the water and stepped out when I was finished, grabbing a towel from the closet. I wrapped it around my waist and walked to the mirror, using my hand to wipe the steam from the glass so I could see myself. I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually looked.

My eyes were dark and dull, the bags under them heavy. I had a cut above my left eyebrow that I couldn't recall getting, and three weeks of growth on my cheeks. I didn't even recognize myself.

After brushing my teeth, I decided to forgo shaving and left the scruff on my face for a different day. I ran a comb through my hair, not really focused on anything until something pink from the garbage can caught my eye. I bent over to get a closer look.

_First Response_

My stomach rolled as I read the words just below: _pregnancy test_.

I swallowed thickly and stood there, frozen, staring at the box before reaching down and picking it up with shaking hands.

I was afraid to look, but I had to know.

Bella and I had discussed children, long ago. We both wanted kids, but we'd decided it was best to wait a little bit before we took that leap. We wanted time to ourselves before we brought kids into our life.

But unplanned pregnancies happened all the time.

Inside the box were two opened packages with the tests inside. Meaning these weren't new. She'd used them. She'd thought she was pregnant.

I slid one test out of its packaging and stared at it. My hand wouldn't stop shaking. My heart was pounding. I felt sick again, and I wanted a drink. Badly.

I wished Emmett had never showed up here. If he hadn't shown up...

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out very easily that she _was _pregnant. Two pink lines. Two fucking pink lines stared back at me.

_How could she?  
_  
I dressed quickly in jeans and a shirt before taking the stairs two at a time. I had to get to Forks. She couldn't just _not _tell me something like this…and then leave. She couldn't do this. No matter how badly I'd hurt her, didn't she stop to think how I would feel finding out about our baby in _this _way?

In the living room, the bottles had been cleaned up. The divorce papers were still in their place on the coffee table with the pen on top. I could hear Emmett in the kitchen talking to himself, and as I turned the corner he looked up at me. He had picked up the mail from the floor and was sorting through it on the counter.

I didn't give him a chance to lecture me.

Knowing my car had disappeared, I knew I needed his help. I wasn't taking no for an answer, either.

"I need you to take me to Forks right now. Or give me your car keys." I had the positive pregnancy test in my hand.

Em's eyes shifted between my face and what I was holding, and I knew he was going to argue before he even opened his mouth.

"You're not in any condition to drive right now," he said.

"Then take me to Forks. Right now, come on." I turned toward the door and stopped short when he didn't follow. He didn't understand. I had to get to her. "I'm not fucking kidding!" I screamed, moving back in his direction and slamming the test on the counter so he could see. "She's pregnant, Emmett! She's pregnant and she left and I need you to take me to her right the fuck now!"

He took a step back, looking completely shocked at the level of my voice. His eyes landed once more on the test lying on the counter and he sighed. "Maybe we should rethink this…you shouldn't—"

"Emmett," I warned, not in any mood to hear his arguments. He held up his hands in front of him to try and calm me down, but I wasn't in a calming mood. "I should have done this three months ago, Em. I should have fucking done this the night she left!"

My eyes burned as the words left my mouth, and he just watched me as I slowly began to unravel in front of him. I wasn't sure how much he knew. I wasn't sure what brought him here today. I didn't care. None of that mattered.

All that mattered was getting to Bella. Because this…_this_ raised the stakes.

On everything.

* * *

**thank you for reading. :) i want to point out, too, that the first chapter is just one example of what these two went through before bella left. the actual downfall of their marriage will come out as we get further along into the story. see you tomorrow!**


	8. Chapter 8

7/25/2012: **Word Prompts**: Report, resort, **retort**

* * *

"Don't call Rose," I told Emmett as we climbed into his Jeep. "I don't want Bella to know I'm coming."

.

.

.

The weather outside wasn't surprising. It was rainy. The clouds were thick, and the air was crisp with winter cold. The ride to Forks felt like it took years. We were quiet, mostly. I was, anyway. Em tried to talk, but I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want to talk to anyone except for Bella. So I stayed silent, stuck in my own head.

My thoughts were full of anger and sadness and confusion.

I didn't understand anything anymore.

I stared down at that pregnancy test and tried to think back; to the last time Bella and I had sex. The clearest memory was the night of our anniversary. Almost six months ago.

She'd looked so beautiful for me that night. But I hadn't told her that. I was too busy being inconvenienced with something as little as our anniversary. I resented the fact that I was missing an important meeting for something we'd been celebrating what felt like all our lives.

When we went home that night, I peeled her dress off slow and took her fast. She screamed my name when she came and I flipped her over, going deeper. Harder. Until she was screaming it again. And I remember feeling vindicated, like I'd proved something to her. What that was, I still didn't understand.

At the end of that night, I slept hard with Bella wrapped around me. I kissed her forehead early and slipped from the bed to catch up on the work I'd missed the night before.

With that memory, I couldn't stop the thoughts and questions from entering my mind about whether or not this baby was even mine. Had she cheated on me? Is that why she'd left so abruptly? Had I really been that bad of a husband, or did she just need a reason to move on from me? From us.

We had been together forever, and there'd never been anyone else in my eyes. I couldn't even picture it. I didn't _want _to.

The first time I met Bella Swan, I was twelve. Her family moved into the house next door and, for me, it was infatuation at first sight. I still remember she was dressed in ripped cutoffs, standing on my porch and holding her daddy's hand, peeking out from behind to stare at me. My eyes caught hers, and her eyes caught my heart.

When you're at that stage in life where puberty's on its way and everything makes you feel funny, having a pretty girl next door is dangerous. _She _was dangerous. Even when I didn't understand what that meant.

She was my best friend from that day forward. That never, ever changed. Even when she finally started to see me the way I'd always seen her. It's what made everything better between us. She was my first kiss. Hers were the first boobs I saw. Touched. She was the first and only woman I'd ever been inside.

But we had more than just teenage lust.

To even think of her being with anyone else like that made me hostile.

My leg was shaking and the scenery outside blurred until I felt dizzy. I couldn't blame alcohol this time, though. My head was clearer than it had been in what felt like months. I hated it.

"Calm down, E."

I sighed, gripping my hair. "I can't."

Emmett reached over and turned down the radio, but didn't say anything else. I took that as my opening to ask him some questions. Three hours was a long time for silence, especially when you were too far inside your own head.

"How did you know?" I asked, hoping he'd understand what I meant.

He changed lanes and glanced at me quickly as we got on the highway. "You weren't answering your phone. Your mom called Rosalie last night in a panic, and then I called your office this morning. Aro said he couldn't get ahold of you either. We thought something happened."

"Something _did _happen, Emmett."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

I sighed and looked away. He was right.

"Did you already know about the papers? About her leaving?"

"Yes," he answered quietly, looking a little guilty. "She talks to Rose."

I wasn't going to ask him anything else. I wanted answers, but I didn't want them from him.

"Thank you."

He shrugged and smiled, reaching over to clap me on the shoulder. "You'd do it for me."

I laughed, but it was without humor. Nothing about this situation was funny.

"I hope I never have to."

.

.

.

Rolling into Forks was like visiting the Ghost of Life's Past. We passed the police station where Bella and I had spent many nights as teens, annoying her father, Charlie. Newton's; where Bella had worked all through high school. The old IGA where we scored beer when we were much too young to have it. The Lodge where I took her before every prom and dance.

I couldn't look anywhere without being reminded. I rubbed my chest, hoping it would soothe the ache that had surfaced, but it only grew tighter the further we drove.

Inside the car, I kept my face covered, not wanting anyone on the street to recognize me. News traveled fast around small towns. Nobody's secrets were safe. And I still didn't want her to know I was coming.

I guided Emmett toward the only place I imagined Bella would be. Alice's house. Their parent's house.

"Make a left here; it's that white one on the corner."

Emmett pulled into the empty driveway, and I was out of the car before he'd even put it in park. I heard his footsteps following behind a few seconds later.

I looked up at the house as I approached. Bella's window was open. She was always leaving windows open. The curtains fluttered with the breeze as light rain fell around us. My heart was pounding as I knocked on the front door. I heard footsteps on the stairs and a second later, the door was opening at the same time as my mouth.

"Bella."

It wasn't brown hair and soulful eyes behind the door, though. It was black and angry. Alice stood before me with her arms crossed over her chest. "She's not here."

I didn't believe her, but Alice was the protective sister; the stronger one. She always had been, even though she's four years our junior. She never let anyone bully her. I loved her like my own sister, and it hurt knowing that a line had been drawn after so many years of it being blurry.

My shoulders fell and traitorous tears burned in my eyes. "I need to talk to her, Alice."

Before she could even respond, the sound of tires over gravel grabbed my attention. I turned and there she was. The silver Volvo was stopped at the edge of the driveway, half in, half out. Bella's hands were on the steering wheel and I couldn't see her clearly, but I knew her lip was between her teeth. I wondered what she was thinking. I wondered if she would turn around and speed off. If she would run from me again.

She couldn't run from me anymore.

Desperate to get to her, I jumped from the porch, ignoring Alice's pleas for me to stop. I began walking toward Bella's car. She didn't move. The engine continued to run, purring softly.

Did she think I didn't know? Did she not want me to see the evidence of her lie?

Another car approached, and I glanced over. A Forks Police car. I knew it was Jasper. Alice must have called him. He pulled in next to Bella, putting the car in park and stepping out.

He walked around the front, stopping me in my tracks. He held his hands out in front of him. "Edward," he warned.

"Stay out of this, Jasper," I retorted, annoyed with his interference.

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"I would never hurt her." I looked at him, letting him see the truth of those words in my eyes. I would _never _intentionally hurt Bella.

"I'm not saying you would. But this is private property, and as one of the owners, I'm asking you to leave."

"Arrest me, then," I told him. "Arrest me if you have to. I'm not leaving until I talk to her." My voice sounded raw, even to my own ears.

I took another step forward.

Jasper's hands landed on my chest. Softly, he pushed, but I refused to budge. I looked around his shoulder, inside the car where Bella still sat. She'd finally turned the engine off and her hands were no longer on the wheel. Her eyes met mine, and I begged her silently to get out of the car.

She still didn't move.

Angrily, I ducked around Jasper and walked to her door, pulling it open before he could stop me. She gasped softly, the first noise I'd heard her make in so long.

And I drank it in like water. Just like I drank in the sight of her.

My eyes roamed her face, her neck, her chest and then lower, where everything should have been different now. Where there should have been evidence of the lie I held in my pocket.

Jasper grabbed me then, pulling me forcefully back. We struggled until my back hit the gravel and I had the taste of dirt in my mouth. I fought him as hard as I could, but at that moment, all my fight was gone.

My arms burned as he finally found a weakness and pulled them behind my back. The cuffs went on quick and then he was pulling me back.

Pulling me away.

I stared at Bella. At the flat belly I expected to be so much fuller, and then my eyes met hers again and her name came out as a question that went unanswered as the door to Jasper's cruiser shut me inside.


	9. Chapter 9

7/26/2012: **Word Prompt**: Solid

* * *

My ears rang as I stared out the window of Jasper's cruiser at the scene in front of me. Alice came rushing forward toward her sister, with Jasper right behind her. They helped Bella from her car, their voices so quiet all that came through was a hum as their lips moved.

I rested my forehead against the glass and Bella stared at me, her eyes red; cheeks stained with tracks of more tears I'd made her cry. She reached toward me for the briefest or seconds. Or maybe it was my own wishful thinking. But I swore I saw her lips form the words 'I'm sorry' before her hands fell to her too-flat stomach and she turned for the house.

My hand touched the glass and my eyes closed for just a second. I wished I could hear her voice. I wished I could touch _her_. I wished everything could go back to the way it used to be.

Alice wrapped her arm around Bella's waist and they walked toward the porch. Emmett put his hand on Bella's shoulder as they passed, seeming to forget completely that he had come here with me—for me—as he went inside the house with them.

I breathed out heavily as she disappeared from my view, trying to ease the pain still squeezing my chest, my heart.

Jasper climbed in the cruiser, and he was quiet for several seconds before turning the key to start the engine. "This is the last thing I want to be doing right now, I hope you know that."

His eyes met mine in the rearview and I nodded, not trusting my voice at that moment. Jasper was our age, and had grown up with us here, on this very street. He and Alice waited to form their connection until she was older, but we always secretly knew it would happen. She was his other half; like I always thought Bella would be mine.

The drive to the police station was short. The cuffs around my wrists cut and burned as Jasper pulled me from the car with his hand wrapped around my arm. His eyes were regretful as he led me inside. I avoided looking at anyone, keeping my gaze on the floor.

Forks jail smelled like liquor and trouble. The one and only holding cell was dirty with thirty or more years of grime. The town drunk laid spread eagle across the only bed in the tiny space, passed out and snoring. I sank to the floor as the barred door closed behind me, not caring about what could be on the floor. I pulled my knees to my chest and tried to breathe through my mouth as I buried my face against them.

Jasper's footsteps were soft as he wandered off without a single word.

Beyond the snoring, I heard voices, muffled and tried to shut everything off. I wanted a drink. I wanted oblivion. At that moment, I honestly just wanted to die. Everything hurt. Confusion felt like a permanent state of mind.

_How could her stomach have been flat? Were the tests even hers?_

If not…then whose?

The same questions continued on repeat.

I don't know how much time passed before Jasper returned. I looked up and caught the eyes of my father. They were narrowed but soft. His face held only one thing: pity. I hated that look, but it was better than seeing his disappointment. What it must have been like to see his only son broken and crumbled on the dirty floor of a jail cell, I had no idea.

"You've been sprung," Jasper said jovially, pulling his keys out and unlocking the door with a forced smile. Waylon still snored from the bed across from me, oblivious to his temporary cellmate.

I stood on shaky legs and dusted myself off, though the action was useless. My muscles burned. I was covered in dirt from my scuffle with Jasper in the driveway earlier. I stepped out, and my father immediately grabbed my shoulder. He squeezed, like he was sharing his strength with me. He'd always been that way. Strong. Solid.

"Let's get you home, son," he said.

I nodded and buried my hands in my pockets. I felt the test, still there. The question still hadn't been answered.

I didn't know at that point if it ever would.

.

.

.

My mother was waiting on the porch when my father pulled into their driveway. Em's car was there, too.

They lived on the outskirts of town now, deep in the woods. Buried. They liked the isolation and the wide, open air of the forest. The front of their house was wall to wall windows, all reflecting the late afternoon sun that had finally showed up. A design my father had completed decades ago and had only recently brought to life.

Mom opened my door like I had done for Bella earlier, immediately throwing herself in my arms as I stepped from dad's car. She was crying. "I was so worried! Don't do that to us again. Don't do that to us again!"

Her fist met my shoulder and a heavy breath escaped as my arms wound around her waist. "I'm okay," I lied. "I'm okay, Ma."

She held me tight until my father's throat clearing broke us apart. "Liz, let's go inside. I think we've got some things to discuss."

Mom lifted her head and nodded at dad, then she grabbed my hand and pulled me behind her toward the house.

I followed with heavy feet.

Em was in the kitchen, eating. Of course. But my stomach rumbled as soon as I smelled the home cooked food. Mom immediately began making me a plate as I took a seat at the island next to Emmett. He smiled at me around a mouthful of pot roast.

My father stood with his hands on granite, watching my mother silently. I knew they both must have been worried; confused. Guilt tugged at my insides as I realized how badly things had become. They would both be angry—or perhaps, hurt—that I hadn't come to them sooner. Shared what was going on. Our relationship had always been close. As an only child, that's just the way it worked in our house. Somehow, things had changed.

Or maybe it was me who had changed.

I ate quickly, devouring the delicious roast and fresh vegetables before digging into the buttery potatoes my mom had dished up. Everyone stayed silent, I suppose, allowing me to enjoy five minutes of peace in what had been months of noise.

As I drank from the glass of water my mother had set in front of me, my father looked at me. And I knew I couldn't hide anything now. I had to tell them.

So I did. I told them everything.

I admitted my shameful behavior the night Bella left. My horrible actions in the days and months that followed. How I thought, stupidly, that she was coming back.

I told them about receiving the papers. About my forced vacation from a job I wasn't sure I would still have come Monday.

I finished with the icing on the cake of my crappy life: today's findings. My car disappearing. Finding the test. Demanding that Em bring me here, to Forks. And then the confrontation in Alice and Jasper's driveway.

Both of my parents were quiet through my story. My mom rubbed my shoulder, trying to offer comfort. I couldn't look at her. When I was finished, I tried to ignore her small whisper, begging me to come to them sooner next time, but I couldn't. She was right. I should have come to them sooner.

"You still don't know where your car is?" Dad asked.

Before I was able to respond, Em stuck up his huge hand and chuckled. "I think I may be able to answer that."

All three of us looked in his direction. I wondered why he hadn't said something earlier, but then I remembered not giving him much of a chance to speak. His eyes were soft when he admitted that he'd sorted through the mail on my floor at home.

"I think it might have been repossessed," Emmett explained. "There were…notices. On the floor."

He shrugged and I lowered my gaze to the floor, shoulders falling in defeat.

"Bella pays the bills," I said, lamely.

Bella had always paid the bills. She did the shopping. She did the laundry. She did everything. And I counted on her to always be there, doing it.

_What did you do to show that you appreciated everything she did, Edward?  
_  
My eyes burned with the sudden thought, and I couldn't look up. I couldn't look at any of them. The guilt doubled, tripled, in my gut. The food I'd just eaten sat like a heavy lump in my stomach.

My mother's lips were warm on my temple. "Rest, son. Go rest," she offered, and I nodded.

* * *

**still no beta... just me and these prompts. all mistakes are mine. i appreciate all of your lovely reviews, even if i am horrible at responding most of the time. though if you have questions, i will do my best to answer. thanks for sticking with me and for reading!  
**


	10. Chapter 10

7/27/2012: **Word Prompt**: Whittle

* * *

Upstairs, I tossed.

I turned.

I dreamed of brown eyed little girls and green eyed little boys. Of my lips on Bella's full stomach, and her hands in my hair as I talked to our baby.

She held my shoulders; gripped them, really. Tighter and tighter until I was struggling to get away. Until All I felt was pain.

Her happy giggle shifted to one angry word: _why_.

_Why, Edward? Why? Why. Why. Why._

I woke with a start, sweaty and panting for breaths.

My head was pounding as I rubbed my chest and blinked up at the ceiling, trying to clear those images—_that fucking word_—from my head.

I sat up and pushed the sweaty hair off my forehead. On the bedside table, mom had left two aspirin and a glass of water for me. Once my breathing was under control, I swallowed both pills down and finished the water quickly. I wasn't satisfied though. Water wasn't the liquid those dreams had me craving.

I didn't even think twice before I was up and moving. Downstairs, I went straight the single malt I knew my father cherished. I untwisted the cap and two shots went down just like the water had upstairs: greedily.

I felt soothed almost instantly.

Calmed.

My shoulders relaxed. I breathed slowly and stared out the window as I tipped the bottle back again, and a third shot made its way down my throat.

Outside the clouds were thick and still. The moon hung nearly full in the middle of the sky, and I wondered if Bella could be looking up at the same starless night from her open window right now.

With a shake of my head I turned away from the windows and found my father standing in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest. He didn't say anything at first, just watched as I tipped the bottle back for another mouthful.

I kept my eyes open, on him, as I swallowed.

"Couldn't sleep?" he finally asked.

I shook my head. "No."

He nodded and stepped into the room, grabbing the bottle I'd just abandoned to pour himself a small glass. He sipped slowly and glanced over at me.

"Your mother and I, we had problems once. You were a baby, but I was just finishing up a huge project, and I spent a lot of time at work. She was stressed out with you at home, and no breaks from that, and we had problems. We fought." He sighed. "We fought all the time. We tried not to do it in front of you, but it was hard. So a lot of things went unsaid for a lot of years. But we both knew there was a problem. We both understood it. We both understood that the other was miserable." He sipped from his glass again and looked at me seriously. "The problem is that you and Bella didn't understand it. Or maybe she did, and you didn't. Either way, one of you lost your way. And it's okay when that happens, but you can't take it for granted that everything will fix itself in time because the other person isn't going anywhere. You've got to make sure they're not going anywhere. You've got to think of her, too, son."

I sighed and looked away. I hadn't ever known my parents to have problems. They made marriage look effortless, like it was easy.

I had always thought Bella and I would be the same way.

"I know that," I said. Swallowing suddenly seemed hard. "Now."

A moment later, I asked, "Do you think she had a miscarriage?" because I hadn't yet. And I couldn't stop myself from wondering.

"I don't know the answer to that question, Edward."

As silence crept up around us, I heard Bella in my head again…her voice saying that word over and over: why, why, why.

Without thought, I opened my mouth and spoke back to her. "_Why_ wouldn't you have told me?" I asked, my voice angry. Dad lifted his hand to my arm and squeezed once. I looked at him, hoping he couldn't see how utterly weak I felt. "Why wouldn't she have told me?" I wondered, knowing he didn't have _that_answer for me either, but unable to stop the question from coming out.

"Perhaps she tried," he offered with a shrug.

Nothing else was said for a long time. I considered his words, though. _Had_ she tried? I couldn't remember her trying. I certainly _thought _I would have remembered something even pertaining to her ever being pregnant.

I wished I could remember.

Dad finished his drink and closed the bottle, staring at me as he placed it back where it belonged. A silent affirmation that we'd both had enough. I didn't need to tell him I understood.

"I'm going up to bed. You should get try to get some more sleep if you can."

I nodded and followed behind him toward the stairs, even though sleep was the last thing on my mind.

"Will you drive me back to Seattle tomorrow?" I asked. Em had left earlier that evening to get home, and I'd chosen to stay the night.

I didn't tell anyone that I wanted to be close to Bella, even if I couldn't see her, talk to her or touch her. Knowing she was at least sleeping under a roof in the same town somehow soothed me.

Even if it was just for tonight.

Back in the guest room, I opened the window before climbing back into bed. On the side Bella typically used. At home, she was always leaving the window open, claiming she liked the cool breeze blowing on her bare skin. Meanwhile, it was _also_blowing on the freezing husband behind her at the same time. The more I cuddled up for warmth, the more she uncovered to cool off. I think she did it on purpose.

That was how many of our nightly trysts began. Silly little play fights that led to wrestling, wrestling that led to touching, and touching that led to _everything_. Including my dirty mouth that could never, ever keep his opinions to himself on how good she looked. Tasted. Felt.

I couldn't remember the last time we'd had a night like that, though. I honestly couldn't even recall the last time we'd made love where it hadn't been rushed. Where I hadn't been thinking of something else, or worrying about a meeting or presentation. My mind was always elsewhere.

Dad had been right; one of us wasn't in it. Me.

I had let this happen without even _knowing_it was happening.

And who could blame Bella?

I shouldn't have trusted that she was going to stick around if I wasn't giving her any reason to. Just the thought of all the things I'd left her to handle completely on her own made me feel sick.

The alcohol in my system had taken hold; my brain felt fuzzy. I knew it wouldn't be long before I was headed back toward the oblivion and numbness I craved…until all the memories and dreams and words and mistakes whittled away into nothingness. At least for the night.

.

.

.

The following morning, I showered and threw on the fresh clothes mom had offered. And then we did as my father had suggested the night before: had breakfast, just the three of us. Mom's French toast and sunny-side-up eggs were delicious, and I absorbed all the extra attention she offered because it was what I'd been craving for months.

She kissed me twice on the cheek before finally allowing us to leave the house with a promise that I'd call soon. I meant it.

With my dirty clothes in a bag from the night before, I followed my dad down their front steps toward his car. The morning sun hadn't yet chosen if it was going to come out, and a light drizzle fell around us. Our heads turned at the same time when we heard the sound of a car approaching. A silver car.

A silver _Volvo_.

Bella.

I stopped in my tracks as her wheels turned slowly over the driveway and she pulled to a slow stop just inches away from where we stood. Dad squeezed my shoulder before turning for the steps and going back inside.

The door closed behind him as Bella's door opened in front of me.

She stepped out slowly.

My heart pounded. My eyes burned.

_I _burned.

For her.

"You're here," I said, staring at her across the roof of the car with wide eyes, like she might disappear if I blinked.

I drank in the sight of her standing in front of me. Her hair was a mess, and her eyes were red. Tired. She looked as bad as I felt. She was still beautiful though.

So, so beautiful.

Quietly, she fidgeted with her keys and looked off into the distance. I swear I waited a million lifetimes for her to speak.

"I wanted to see for myself that you were okay," she whispered, finally bringing her eyes to mine. Deep brown and glassy.

No, I wasn't okay; far from it. That wasn't the answer she wanted to hear, though.

"I'm all right," I lied, just like I had to my mom the night before.

Bella's shoulders visibly relaxed at my words, but her eyes didn't clear. I hated seeing her look so sad.

I hated being the reason.

The wind picked up as the silence between us stretched, sending her hair flying around her head. I took a step closer, trying to ignore the way the need to touch her overpowered me all of a sudden. I curled my hands into fists and squeezed my eyes closed. There were so many words I wanted to say. So many things I wanted to ask. So many millions of apologies I wanted to offer. But standing there, in front of her, I couldn't bring myself to utter a single one.

All I could think was that she was there.

She'd come.

For _me_.

Her name fell from my lips. A question. A plea. Broken. Raw.

I wanted her to admit she was wrong. I wanted her to tell me the tests I had found weren't hers. I wanted her to tell me we could fix it. That she wouldn't leave me again.

_It had to mean something, right? She'd come here. It had to mean something.  
_  
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. I waited, dangling with one hand on the ledge as she struggled for words. Her eyes slid behind me toward the door of my parent's house. And I watched her crumble. Glassy eyes turned to leaking waterfalls down her cheeks.

"I shouldn't have come here," she said abruptly.

Before I could react, she'd turned and climbed back into still open door of the Volvo. I jumped then, forward and ran toward the other side of the car. My hand wrapped around the frame of her door just as she went to close it, I held it open as she struggled against me.

"Don't go," I begged pulling it open completely and falling to my knees at her side, letting her see how _not_okay I really was. "Please don't leave me again. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry…"

She drew in a shaky breath, staring straight ahead. I stared at her eyes. Watched a tear trail across her cheek. My eyes fell to her hands resting across her too-flat stomach.

"You left me far before I left you, Edward." Her voice was robotic. Empty.

"Please let me fix it. Please let me fix it…" I shuddered and put my hand over hers, on her stomach. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat that grew when she started to shake her head.

She pushed my hand away.

"You can't," she said, her voice high, higher, until it broke on the last letter. "Maybe…before, you could have. But you can't now. You can't. Not now…maybe not ever."

She looked at me then, her eyes meeting mine fiercely. I couldn't speak. Couldn't think.

She was leaving me all over again.

"I tried, you know. I tried for months. I put up with your moods, and your absences. I put up with being ignored unless it benefited you or something you needed. I put up with not seeing you for days at a time because you were working late. You are—_were_—all I had."

She took a deep breath and the knife in my heart twisted painfully. She wasn't done.

"You're all I've had since I was a kid, besides Alice. I don't even know how to begin living without you, but I know that with you over the past year…that wasn't living. I forgot about myself. I put myself in a position that I don't know if I'll ever be able to get over. I need to learn how to exist on my own, right now. And so do you. I know it was wrong of me to keep you from seeing how badly I was hurting in the beginning, but I did it to protect you. And I'm _still _doing it." She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "I shouldn't be here."

"Don't go," I begged one last time.

I hoped.

Then she killed every hope I had…

"Sign the papers, Edward. Please."

* * *

**Please forgive me for the lack of update last night…this conversation was difficult to write. But I should have a second update for you guys later if that makes it better. Thanks for reading!**


	11. Chapter 11

7/28/2012: **Word Prompt**: Sport

* * *

The moment I got home that afternoon, I raced inside and signed the papers.

.

.

.

It had been dad that found me in the driveway. A complete mess of tears and weakness and disbelief as I'd stared in the direction Bella had gone.

"She's gone," I'd said.

He'd asked me what he could do. And I told him the truth. There was nothing _he_could do.

I was the one who had to start doing.

So because she'd asked—begged—me to let her go, I did it. I picked up that pen and I signed my name.

Even though it wasn't what I wanted, I knew it was what she deserved.

Her words haunted me.

_"Not now…maybe not ever."_

When dad walked inside the house behind me, I handed the papers to him without a word. He tucked them under his arm and stood straight with a firm nod. He understood. I wanted him to get rid of them. I wanted him to put them in the mail where they belonged so this could be finished.

So she could move on.

Be happy.

I only ever wanted her to be happy.

.

.

.

Dad stayed with me that night, silent in the living room as he read the paper and I worked to begin sorting out the mess I'd let accumulate over the previous few months.

I let my mind get tangled up in bills; kept my hands busy writing checks.

Anything but Bella.

The first thing I knew I had to tackle was my car. After searching through everything, making a phone call and offering up my credit card number, I'd made arrangements to pick it up the following day.

I wrote check after check. I was months behind on…_everything_. Because I hadn't stopped to think that Bella was gone, and she wasn't taking care of anything anymore.

I was responsible for myself now.

Dad joined me at one point, eying the bottle of dark liquid in front of me on the table, but not saying anything. He said he'd ordered pizza, followed by twenty minutes of explanations on how amazing the invention of the smart phone was.

"There's food in here, Edward! And weather. Email, and even angry birds. It really is brilliant." He had a huge smile on his face as he pointed at the little rectangular device in his hands.

I was thankful for the reprieve, however brief.

We had dinner together, and by the time I was feeling sleepy drunk, dad was passed out snoring on the couch.

Once I felt steady on my feet and brave enough to do it, I climbed the stairs.

The door to our bedroom stood open. I took in a deep breath and forced myself to walk in. The bed sheets were messy, and still on the floor were the broken pieces of Bella's jewelry box. I had picked up the rings and stashed those away weeks ago.

I didn't look at anything.

I climbed into the bed, closing my eyes to the burn blazing through my veins.

My bed now.

Just mine.

.

.

.

I woke early the following morning, showering and dressing in the sharpest pressed clothes I could find in the closet. I wanted to leave no room for error when I walked into my office and begged for forgiveness. I needed my job more than ever and I wanted Aro to know I was back, that I was me and that wouldn't change.

My father dropped me off with a, "You'll be fine, Sport." His old nickname for me; one he hadn't called me in years, but felt good to hear again.

I bid him goodbye with the promise to keep in touch, and thanked him once before he sped off.

When I walked into my building, I ignored the stares of everyone as I passed. I went directly to Aro's office. He sat behind his desk, looking at the door as I walked in; like he was expecting me.

He stood slowly and walked around the desk, leaning on the front and resting his weight on his palms.

I stood eye level with him and swallowed thickly. "Sir," I said, nodding.

Aro's shoulders fell slightly. "Thank god you're okay." He came forward then, pulling me into a fatherly hug. I struggled to hold myself together. We both pulled back, and he kept his hold, looking deep into what I knew to be my own dull green, bloodshot eyes. "Don't ever do that to us again, Edward."

"I won't," I promised.

"Good. Are you ready to get back to work?"

"Yes," I answered..

And work I did. It was the mask I wore.

.

.

.

When I wasn't working, someone was always there. It was like they were afraid to leave me alone.

But even _they _didn't know what I was hiding.

They had no idea that I couldn't start my day without at least a shot and a half to get me going.

They didn't know that on some days, I needed a shot just to make it past lunch.

They had no idea how deep in I had gotten.

They had no idea how much I was punishing myself.

Two months after the morning I signed the papers, I sold our house.

I took a major hit on the cost, basically going in the red to get out of it. But I didn't care. I couldn't stand to live there anymore.

There were ghosts around every corner.

I had gotten so deep that drinking no longer brought on peace and quiet. It brought out those ghosts. It sent me into the past and it made me remember everything.

Every touch. Every kiss. Every fight.

I spent hours analyzing every second of our relationship, trying to find that one moment when our connection severed completely.

Just before the house sold, I found a very small, one bedroom apartment in downtown Seattle and bought it outright.

I moved every single piece of furniture from our house; every picture, curtain, pillow and dish, into a storage unit. I had Emmett give Rosalie the key to hand off to Bella with the message that it was hers, whether she wanted it or not.

It was all hers. Even me.

Everything in my apartment was new. Nothing was tainted by the ghost of her. I hoped it would keep her from slipping into my mind on dark, quiet nights with my bottle.

But it didn't.

.

.

.

On the night of what would have been our fourth anniversary, I decided I didn't want to be alone. My friends and family had long since given up babysitting me. I had them all fooled.

I had them all completely fucking snowed on how deep I was.

That night, I hadn't wanted to be alone. But I also had no desire to be in the company of any of my friends or family.

I walked the streets of downtown until I found it. The club was dark, music pounding. I stepped to the bar and ordered a double of Jack. It went down quick, and I held up my finger for another. I sipped the second with my back to the bar, watching the crowd.

Bella had always told me how attractive I was. I never noticed when girls noticed me, because there had only ever been one girl I looked at.

I was looking, now, though.

She was blonde.

Her eyes were the brightest, sharpest blue. The furthest from brown I found.

She kissed wet in the back of my car, and her ass was too big for my hands. She fucked me hard, using my cock to make herself feel good while I sat there in a daze and let her take it. I kept my eyes open on her golden hair and too bright eyes and watched, to keep myself from picturing her as someone else.

She wasn't Bella.

She didn't even compare.

* * *

**I'm not one for dragging out the angst, so I hope nobody frowns on my pushing this right along. Tomorrow we'll jump ahead a little more. Thank you so much for all of the reviews/alerts/messages today; especially you, Jaime and PAWSPeaches.**


	12. Chapter 12

7/30/2012: **Word Prompt: **Placate

* * *

I left Blondie in the parking lot without a goodbye. I hadn't even bothered to learn her name. It didn't really matter, anyway.

She was just the first of many.

.

.

.

My cell rang as I was heading to my car after work. I looked down at the screen and sighed. Emmett.

"Hello?" I answered.

"So you _are _alive," he joked.

I snorted and hit the button to unlock my doors. Even I had to admit the truth. I had been avoiding him. Avoiding meant not having to admit things. It also meant not having to hear things I didn't want to hear.

"Yes. I'm alive."

"Could have fooled me, dude."

"What's up?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"I called to see what you're up to tonight. Rosie is gone and I think we should take advantage."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Pizza and Baseball, of course."

To placate him, I agreed.

One stop off at the liquor store later and I was standing on Em and Rosalie's front porch. From inside, the bass of the surround sound rattled the windows. I could hear him screaming at the announcers as I rang the doorbell. The door opened a minute later. Em was dressed for the occasion; foam finger and all.

"You actually came." He sounded surprised. I couldn't blame him.

He looked me over from head toe, noticing my too long hair and unshaven face. I wondered what else he could see. I held up the six pack in my hands with a small but forced smile.

"And I brought beer."

"I knew there was a reason we were friends." I followed him inside. "Pizza should be here soon. Extra meat, just the way I like it."

He rubbed his stomach and I couldn't help smirking. He made it too easy sometimes. "I always knew you liked the meat."

"Fuck you," he laughed.

After that, we made small talk and watched the game. By eleven, Seattle was down by two. The beer and pizza were long gone. All I wanted was to get in my car and break open the good stuff I had hidden away for later. I swallowed as the imagined taste of it hit my tongue. Craving. Needing. My skin itched. My eyes watered. I felt the telltale tremor deep down in my hands.

"You got anything else to drink around here?" I asked.

"There's some beer in the garage. It's not cold though," Em said, distracted by a triple play screw-up on our side. "If you want something cold, I think Rosie has a bottle of vodka in the freezer."

I nodded. Vodka wasn't my usual drink of choice, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

I stood from my chair. "Want anything?" I asked.

"Nah, I'm good."

Emmett and Rosalie's fridge was covered in magnets and drawings and pictures. Rose's cousin Irina had a few kids, and there were pictures of them stuck everywhere showing the progression of their ages. I didn't mean to look.

I didn't plan to look.

But as soon as I did, I couldn't look away.

Stuck in the middle of those magnets and drawings and unfamiliar little girls was the girl I knew all too well.

"Bella," I breathed.

The picture looked recent. Her hair was shorter now, lying just above her shoulders. Her skin had color, her cheeks were pink. Her eyes were clear and bright, and there was a smile on her face more beautiful than any smile I had ever seen in my life.

I smiled, too.

She looked so happy. So pretty.

I stepped closer. My eyes focused. I lifted a finger and traced her arm until my blood went cold.

His hair was black, eyes a dark royal blue. He stood with his hand on her waist, fingers touching her bare skin. She leaned into him. Not a lot.

But enough.

I looked down at the floor and swore I saw my heart there, in pieces, everywhere.

"Edward?" Em asked, coming into the kitchen behind me. "Did you get lost?"

I knew the exact moment he realized what I'd seen. His steps froze. He sucked in a deep breath and cursed with a whisper. I felt his hand on my shoulder a second later. I shrugged him off and left without a word.

.

.

.

Rock bottom comes at you hard and fast. Like a slap to the face, or being pushed from a ledge. You don't even know you're there until you're flat on your back, staring up at the sky…

I had thought about it so many times; wondered if it would ever come. Or if I was destined to spend my days dangling. Scared. Waiting.

I knew it _should _have happened the day Bella left me. It didn't.

It should have happened the day she left me again. The day I signed those papers and let her go. It _still _didn't.

It could have happened on any of those nights I curled myself around a bottle, drinking from it until I physically couldn't drink anymore. On any of those nights when I carelessly offered my body.

I think I wanted it. I think I waited for it.

I think I knew _that _sky was the only thing that could stop me.

I had no idea _one_ picture would be what put me on my back.

.

.

.

My sky had black eyes and fiery red hair.

They were always blonde or red. Never brown. Never, ever brown.

Especially not that night.

The hidden bottle in my car hadn't lasted the length of Em's street. I sucked it down fast, and then I went searching. It didn't take me long to find her.

It never did.

She smiled so sweet and said all the right things. So I followed when she pulled me to her car. I let her touch me while she drove, my eyes half open.

Her apartment was dingy and small. Dirty. It smelled of men's cologne and rotten food. And I didn't care, because suddenly she was offering a new kind of oblivion. I couldn't say no.

It wasn't long before Red Sky had me buzzing, humming and flying high, high, _so high _on her white. In the clouds and then back down.

Over and over again.

She'd stripped and opened her legs, offering. But I couldn't take her like that. It was too close. It was always too close.

I picked her up and flipped over, setting her on top. Sweat dripped from my forehead as she pushed my body into the bed, and her finger into my mouth.

_More_, she said. You need _more_.

And I took it from her as she took from me. I took every single taste. I swallowed it down; licked my teeth.

I tasted bitterness and release and euphoria on my tongue. I tasted happiness.

_Bella?_

_Who's Bella?_

My eyes closed. Opened. All the brown, happy eyes and pretty beautiful smiles in my head had disappeared.

I felt like the strongest motherfucker alive.

I felt unbreakable.

Those feelings can only last so long, though.

* * *

**Thank you all so much for reading and sticking this one out. **

**A couple things...  
**

**- The first chapter (BPOV) is only _one_ example of what happened in the last year of this marriage. It was the beginning, the way it started. Some people are questioning Bella and her possible overreaction, but remember that you're only seeing Edward's head here and what it comes down to is that he didn't see what she did (or feel what she did). We're looking at this from how he saw/felt everything. Until he acknowledges what he hasn't before...well, give him some time. The boy's a mess, no?  
**

**- A few have asked how long it's been since Bella left, and I'm estimating it's been about a year at the end of this chapter. (they are divorced, officially.) No cheaters here. Promise.  
**


	13. Chapter 13

7/31/2012:** Word Prompt**: Juicy

* * *

_Breathe!_

_Hands. Hard hands._

_Calloused fingers_

_Touching—beating—my chest. My face._

_It hurts. Everything hurts._

_Come on, breathe!_

_Someone is screaming._

_Yelling._

_Sir?_

_Sir can you hear us?_

_Sir we're going to get you to the hospital…_

.

.

.

Breaking Dawn Recovery Center wasn't at all what I expected. I'd told dad I wanted somewhere far away. Somewhere fresh.

Somewhere with as little ghosts as possible. He'd made all the arrangements for me. All I had to do was show up.

It was up to me now.

As the taxi pulled down a long drive and through a large thicket of trees, it opened up to reveal what looked like a house. A mansion, really. I looked out the opposite window. There were several smaller buildings scattered around the property, but the big house was clearly the main attraction. Painted a bright yellow and decorated with white trim. The shutters on the windows were open.

The front walkway was decorated by what looked to be rosebushes, all still showing their colors in the late autumn weather. A man stood just at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the porch, his hands behind his back and a kind smile on his face. It grew as we drew closer.

Once the taxi fare had been settled, I stepped out of the car slowly, stretching my tired body as I lifted my arms and yawned. The flight to New Hampshire wasn't pleasant; the last week hadn't been a picnic either. But this was the right decision. It had to be.

"Welcome to Breaking Dawn," the man said, his accent thick. He was definitely not from Seattle. He sounded a little like he was from New York. "I'm Carlisle. Carlisle Cullen. You must be Edward."

His blond hair and blue eyes made me breathe a little easier. He held his hand out for mine and I reached forward slowly to shake. His grip was strong, and he never broke eye contact.

I wondered if he could tell how nervous I was.

"Hello," I managed.

Seeming oblivious, Carlisle picked up my bag and nodded his head toward the front door. "Let's head on inside, yeah? We can sit down in my office and talk about why you're here."

Without a word, I shoved my hands in my pockets and climbed the steps behind him.

_Here we go.  
_  
.

.

.

Inside, the house was decorated like, well, a house. Couches and chairs. Flowery art on the walls. It smelled of cinnamon. Voices drifted from the living room. Carlisle stopped as we passed, stepping into the room and gesturing in my direction.

I looked around. A woman about my mothers' age sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, a plethora of pictures scattered in front of her. She smiled and offered a wave. The room's other occupant was a girl who I guessed couldn't have been more than thirty. She had her hair pulled up on top of her head in a messy bun, and she was dressed in one of those ridiculous sweatsuits girls wear, with the word Juicy in big, bold block letters across their asses. She didn't smile or wave, just lifted her eyebrows the tiniest bit in my direction.

I tugged at the sleeves of my hoodie and stood, waiting.

"Everyone, this is Edward." He turned to look at me. "Edward, this is my wife, Esme. She'll keep you well fed while you're with us, but you're not allowed to fall in love with her and try to steal her away. Capische?" He put his arm around the younger woman and squeezed a little, laughing. She scowled. "This here is Leah. You'll get to know her soon in therapy, and don't say I didn't warn you."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"What he means is that it might say Juicy across my butt, but I'll kick your ass." She grinned, finally showing off a row of perfectly white teeth.

I laughed, breathing slowly as my shoulders relaxed.

I could do this.

.

.

.

Carlisle's office was all dark fabrics and cherry colored wood. His desk was unorganized, and his bookshelves were overstuffed. There was an old leather couch just below the huge window that looked out on the front yard. His chair looked newer, but still worn, like he'd spent a lot of time there. I didn't really care, they both looked like a good place for a nap at that moment.

"Have a seat."

He gestured to the couch and stepped toward his desk, grabbing a file. I took a seat in the middle of the sofa, knees wide and hands hanging limply between. Carlisle took his chair then too, and opened the file he'd grabbed from his desk.

I stared at the floor and tugged at my sleeves again. It had been almost twenty four hours, and now that I wasn't drugged on Xanax and passed out on a plane, I was itching for something warm and dark to whet my thirst.

My mouth watered and I licked my lips.

"Would you like to tell me why you're here?" Carlisle asked, bringing my attention to him.

"You know."

"I do. I spoke with your father. Nice man, that Ed." He smiled. "But I'd really like to hear it from you."

I pushed out a heavy breath. "Why do you _think_?" I asked, glaring as I slapped my hands down on my thighs. My right leg had begun to shake.

He smirked and sat forward. "I understand you suffered an overdose on cocaine."

I nodded, my chest tight.

"Had you ever been a drug user before that night?"

I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest.

"So what was your drug, or rather, your _drink _of choice then?"

I swallowed. "Stranahan's, beer. Anything."

"What changed?" he asked curiously.

_Everything. _"I don't know," I lied, looking away.

Carlisle shifted in his chair. He tapped his pen on the edge of his lip. I focused on getting my leg to stop shaking.

"Let me be brutally honest with you," he said finally. "I realize how scary and unnerving this whole thing can be, and as someone who's been through it before, I get it. I get that you don't trust me yet, and that's fine. I just want you to understand that I'm here for _you_. If you don't want to talk, I'm certainly not going to make you." He sighed. "I'll tell you this, though. I've been sober for twenty four years, six months and four days now. I know what it takes. I've seen a lot of men and women come through these doors, and I can usually tell within the first two weeks which ones are going to make it to ninety days and never return, and which ones aren't. Those people are usually the ones who don't try. Who don't even _attempt _to try." He rubbed his forehead. "So tell me this Edward. Are you willing to try? Is this day one for you, because from here on out, it's all about the days. Or are we both wasting our time here?"

I looked everywhere but at him. Bit my lip. I sighed. Picked at my sweatshirt. Tapped my left foot. He waited patiently as I considered everything he'd said to me. The one thing that stuck out the most was the fact that what he'd said, about the days, it was true. And I had a choice to make. I could either go home and return to a way of life I had absolutely no desire to live anymore, or I could do it. I could be one of those people who tries and succeeds at something.

It'd been so long since I succeeded at anything. I wanted it. I wanted it so badly, I knew the moment it wasn't liquor I imagined on my tongue. The moment I tasted the want of that success.

And then I did it.

I looked him square in the eyes.

"You're not wasting your time."

* * *

**Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.**


	14. Chapter 14

8/1/2012: **Word Prompts**: **Charge**, barge, large

* * *

Carlisle shifted in his chair and smiled as he set his cup down on the table. The smell of fresh coffee wafted toward me as I inhaled. "How are you feeling today, Edward?" he asked.

This was how most of our mornings began. In his office with the curtains pulled wide. The sun streamed through the window and warmed my skin.

"Thirsty," I answered, returning his smile. It was the truest statement there was. My life had become about nothing but perpetual thirst and whether or not I was strong enough to fight it.

I looked down at my hand, flipping the chip I held there. I rubbed my finger against the lifted words that read 'twenty-four hours.'

Seven days ago, celebrating such a small accomplishment seemed strange, like it was too soon. Now I realized that every second was an accomplishment.

Every breath. Every heartbeat.

A fire had begun that first night I sat with Carlisle in his office, deep beneath my skin. It grew hotter as the cravings teased and taunted and called my name. My anxiety grew, amped up and charged. I twisted and turned in a bed of my own sweat for what felt like a million seconds.

It might have been less, but I couldn't be certain.

I'd lost count somewhere around ten thousand.

All I knew was that I was ready to do anything for a drink. Anything to make it stop. To put the fucking fire out. I begged for liquid to battle my flames.

I begged for help.

I begged for Bella.

She didn't answer.

Nobody answered.

I burned to ash.

And then, on day three, I woke reborn.

"Are you ready to tell me how you're really feeling?" Carlisle asked, bringing my attention back to him.

I considered his question.

My body was used up. Tired. I felt sluggish, and my muscles _ached_. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so much.

Or the last time it felt so good to actually _feel_.

I had been so scared of the clarity that _not_ drinking would bring me and my mind. So frightened of being out of the clouds and back on my own two feet. Terrified of finally facing every demon I'd been hiding from in the last couple of years while I buried my emotions and problems inside a bottle.

I shrugged and finally told him the truth. "I'm so tired, like I could sleep for the next ten years. And my arms are killing me."

Carlisle nodded. "The fatigue is to be expected. So is the pain in your arms. Most alcohol abusers suffer similar symptoms during detox. Your body's so unused to not being slowed down by the effects of alcohol that it now has to discover how to function again. Your sessions with Leah will help to stretch those muscles out and get them back in shape."

"She's tough," I said.

As a part of my treatment, my mornings were spent with Carlisle, talking, and my afternoons were with Leah doing physical therapy. I wasn't a big fan of the yoga. But she'd explained to me that for a lot of alcoholics, herself included, fitness training and exercise aided in the recovery process.

"I warned you, didn't I?" Carlisle joked.

"You did." I laughed.

"And how are you sleeping?"

I swallowed as the laugh in my throat stopped short. My eyebrows lifted. "Nice segue there."

Carlisle smiled and shrugged. "I do what I can."

He waited as I gathered my thoughts. Sleeping had been difficult for a long time, and now that I was at Breaking dawn, it had gotten even worse. My brain seemed determined to relive that night when I met the sky.

"I've been having this dream," I admitted, picking at my sweats.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"About what?" I asked, knowing he would spot my desire for avoidance a mile away. I smirked.

He shook his head and looked me in the eyes. "I'll wait as long as you need, but just remember what I told you. I can't help if you don't try."

I sighed and crossed one ankle over the other, deciding to just go for it.

"I only remember bits and pieces of that night, and that's how the dream is. Just frames and flashes. I see that red hair, and I hear voices yelling at me to breathe and telling me they're going to take me to the hospital." I stopped, swallowing as my stomach rolled. "Then I wake up and I swear I can still sense that bitter taste in my mouth."

"Can you take me back to the beginning of that night?"

I rubbed my fingers against my thigh and looked out the window. "My friend Emmett called and invited me over to watch the Mariner's game."

"That sounds nice," he commented.

"It was. At first. I hadn't seen him in a while."

"Did something happen between the two of you that caused you to be upset for some reason? You told me last week you weren't a drug user before the overdose."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I wasn't. I—" I sucked in a deep breath. "I saw a picture of my wife...my _ex_-wife on his fridge."

God, it hurt to say that out loud. I hadn't ever said it before.

"How long had you two been divorced?"

I closed my eyes and counted. "About a year."

"What's her name?"

"Bella," I answered, unable to help the smile that accompanied her name.

"What was it about the picture that bothered you?"

I sat forward and rubbed my palms against my eyes. Everything about that picture bothered me. I wasn't the one touching her, _he _was.

"It was too much, seeing her like that. She looked so happy. She looked happy _without _me, when I'm anything but. We were supposed to make it. We were supposed to be together forever. I don't understand what happened."

Despair sat in my stomach like a heavy weight. I slouched into the couch and stared at the floor, eyes burning. My hands had begun to shake. Low, slow tremors deep in my fingers. I rubbed them against my thighs and swallowed down the taste of desire.

"So your divorce…it wasn't a mutual decision?"

I shook my head.

"She left you." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," I said, knowing I needed to say it out loud.

"How long had the two of you been together?"

"For years. Since we were teenagers, officially. But I've…I've been in love with her since I was twelve."

"The divorce, is this what brought on your drinking, or is your drinking what brought on the divorce?" he asked.

"I wasn't really much of a drinker before." I looked away, wiping my cheek discretely as I felt a tear escape.

I hated feeling so weak.

Carlisle hummed and I saw him writing my details in his yellow notebook. "Do you want to tell me why she decided to leave?"

And that was the million dollar question. The question I'd been simultaneously asking myself and avoiding the answer to for the past year.

_Why did she leave?  
_  
I thought back, trying to remember. My mouth opened, and the truth finally began to tumble out…

.

.

.

_I'd been late coming home from work that night. When I walked into the house, I found Bella sitting on the couch. She looked a little fidgety, but she was always like that._

_"Hey," she said, standing up. She wiped her hands on the front of her jeans. "Can we talk?"_

_I reached up to loosen my tie, groaning because I was tired. I'd been working nonstop on a top secret project for Aro, and I just wanted to sleep. Over the previous several weeks, it felt like we'd had the same arguments over and over again._

_"I'm tired," I said, yawning as I turned for the stairs._

_She followed me._

_Our bedroom was immaculate. It always was. No dust or clutter. The bed was cleanly made and on top, a bag lay open._

_Bella's things were inside._

_I stopped short, staring down into the bag. My heart slowed and I turned around to find her standing in the doorway behind me. My hands curled into fists._

_"What's this?" I asked, gesturing to the bag. I took off my suit jacket and left it on the chair, needing something to do with my hands._

_She hated that. She hated when I left my clothes lying around._

_"I'm leaving," she said._

_I laughed and walked into the closet, undoing my belt and unbuttoning my suit pants. "Funny joke, Bella."_

_I pulled off my shirt and walked back out to find her dropping more shit inside the suitcase. I stood there for a minute, watching as she struggled to close and zip it. I was smiling._

_Once she managed to get it shut, Bella breathed in deeply and wrapped her fingers around the handle, turning to look at me. I widened my eyes and dared her to speak._

_Tears suddenly streamed down her pretty cheeks. She looked like she was gearing herself up for battle as her shoulders straightened and she stood a little taller._

_"I've tried, you know? I've tried to make this work, to be happy. I wanted to get counseling…I wanted so many things." She sighed. "I love you, Edward…but I love me more. And I can't do this anymore."_

_"You can't do what anymore?" I yelled, suddenly angry that she'd even think of leaving me. She needed me._

_"I can't live my life feeling like a shadow! I can't live my life waiting for your attention! I won't…I won't do it anymore. I can't, Edward!"_

.

.

.

I gasped and sat forward, looking up at Carlisle. "I told her I didn't need her. I…I laughed at her. She tried. And I didn't listen. I never listened." I shuddered out a breath. "I lied to her."

"What did you lie about, Edward?"

I ran my fingers through my hair. I was agitated. I wanted a drink so fucking bad.

"I did need her. I _do _need her. I still don't know how to live without her."

Carlisle reached out and squeezed my knee. "I would imagine that's why you're here, isn't it son?"

I looked up at him. Lost. I realized what he was saying. If I wanted to succeed, to truly recover, I needed to do what Bella had done.

I had to learn to live without her.

* * *

**I'm not sure it needs to be said, but a) I'm not a therapist, and b) I've never been in rehab. Creative license and all that.**

**Thank you so much for reading and for all of the wonderful reviews. I'm floating on cloud nine.  
**


	15. Chapter 15

8/2/2012: **Word Prompt**: Barter

* * *

"Why didn't you want to go to counseling?" Carlisle asked. He had this way about him, of sneaking things in and catching me off guard. And it worked, because it always made me stop and think.

Which is exactly what I _hadn't _been doing for years.

"It's not that I didn't want to go," I admitted, feeling this aching twist in my chest. I ignored it. "I just didn't see a reason."

Carlisle was silent as I stared at my lap and contemplated what I'd revealed. He was good at breaking me down, too. Opening my mind up. He was helping me to learn another very tough lesson, along with getting sober: how not to lie. To everyone.

Including myself.

With a sigh, I pulled my twenty-four hour chip from my pocket and flipped it over. It was heavy and cold in my hand, but it relaxed me. It reminded me that the need to barter for a drink was growing less overpowering by the minute. I breathed a little easier.

"Did Bella ever give you _her _reasons wanting to go to counseling?" he asked.

I looked up into his calm blues and bit my lip. She'd given reasons. She'd given plenty of reasons.

I just never saw them as valid, because they weren't _my _reasons.

"She used to call sometimes," I told him. "She'd call while I was working, and it just agitated me. I would get frustrated because she wouldn't _stop _calling, and then she'd get frustrated with my not answering. I thought she was overreacting. We fought. And she suggested we go talk to someone. I didn't see the point. She knew where I was and what I was doing. I just didn't understand why she wouldn't stop calling." I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. I felt restless all of a sudden; wound up and full of energy I needed to burn. My right leg bounced with agitation.

He stared down at my leg. "Do you think she was worried about you?"

"Why would she be worried about me?" I wondered.

He smiled a little and his eyes softened. "Had you ever strayed from your marriage? Given her any reason to doubt your fidelity?"

"Fuck no, Carlisle. I never cheated on my wife." I huffed out a breath. I may have been a liar and a drunk, but I was never a cheater. "I was _working_. She knew I was working," I growled, irrationally angry.

He held up his hands. "Forgive me for playing devil's advocate here, Edward. But have you ever considered the fact that maybe your behavior gave Bella a reason to suspect that you were being unfaithful, even if you weren't?"

"Which behavior?" I huffed.

"You admitted yourself that you worked long hours and avoided her calls."

He didn't ask another question, just left those words in the air between us so I could think about what he'd said. Had she thought that? I wasn't sure.

"I did work long hours," I finally said. "I was new, fresh out of school. I was trying…I just wanted to make a happy life for us, for our child—" I stopped as that word turned to dust in my mouth. My face fell and I turned away from Carlisle's calm, patient gaze.

That was one thing I wasn't ready to discuss yet.

I cleared my throat. "I was working all those hours for _us_. I wanted her to have everything. I would have given her anything."

My eyes burned and Carlisle handed me a tissue. It was getting easier and easier to cry. That was something, as a man, I never thought I'd be able to say.

"Do you think that maybe those material things weren't as important to Bella as they were to you?"

.

.

.

"_It's cold," I complained crawling into the bed, shivering as I scooted closer._

_"It's plenty warm over here."_

_My grin stretched for miles as I put my hands on her. She was warm in all the places that mattered._

_Beneath her breasts. On her belly. It fluttered under my fingers as I touched her with the lightest of pressure. Tickling._

_"I know exactly how warm you are, Baby."_

_She giggled. She sighed. I scooted closer. My body stirred and I hoped she could feel what she did to me. How much I wanted her._

_My hand drifted lower, searching, until I found her warmest place. Slick and waiting. For me. Only me._

_I teased her with my fingers, circling her clit and then dipping lower to push inside. Her pussy squeezed my finger and it wasn't enough._

_I wanted it to squeeze me._

_My hand pulled out quick and I moved down to grip her opposite hip, tugging until she was lying flat and I was hovering above._

_I stared down into golden brown, sparkling white with the reflection of the moon._

_She smiled up at me._

_"I love you," I whispered, pushing my lips against hers. Our kiss was slow as my hands once again traveled the length of her body._

_"Mmm, me too," she replied, smiling up at me. At my heart._

_She lifted her arms above her head, back arched as I found her pussy again. I knew exactly how she liked it. She liked the slow start, the sweet words. The soft touches. She wanted to start slow and be pushed higher until all her inhibitions fell away._

_I loved watching her strip for me._

_"I'm gonna marry you someday," I whispered in her ear. "I'm going to give you every single thing…"_

_"Just want you," she moaned, holding me tight and lifting her hips into my hand. "I've always just wanted you, Edward."_

_Smiling as her words filled up my heart, I lowered my mouth to her chest and tasted her sweetness on my tongue. I pulled my hand away from her hip to wrap around her knee. "Open for me."_

_She didn't hesitate._

_She never hesitated._

_I lifted to my knees and crawled between her legs. She lifted her arms as I settled on top. Inside._

_I breathed out slow and heavy, hips moving slow. Oh, so slow._

_"You're the best feeling ever," I told her, pushing my hips a little harder into hers._

_My eyes closed then…and I melted. We melted. Lost and frantic. Breaths heavy until all our love culminated and cracked us both wide open under the light of the moon, with the cool breeze wrapped around us._

.

.

.

I winced at the memory as I came back to the present, blinking rapidly. My eyes were on fire. I shifted to hide what it'd done to my body. My heart skipped a beat.

"Bella didn't care about material things. She wasn't like that," I said firmly, my voice raw. "But I still wanted to give them to her."

I shrugged. I wouldn't apologize for that.

I would have given her the world if I could have.

Carlisle set his notebook on the table and waited until I was looking at him to speak. "As adults we have to realize that sometimes, life isn't always about what _we_ want."

* * *

**A few have asked, and let me just say this... I would personally never choose to read a story that did not end happily. And if, by chance, I ever found one and wasn't warned? I'd probably be the first person to start a search party for said author.**

**Breathe easy, readers. The genre says it all.  
**

**Thank you for reading.  
**


	16. Chapter 16

8/3/2012: **Word Prompt**: Flimsy

* * *

"You said you held off signing the divorce papers when you first received them. What was it that finally changed your mind?"

With a sigh, I tapped my finger against the raised edge of some gardening magazine on Carlisle's table and pretended not to hear him.

I wasn't in the mood to talk. About anything, really.

Especially not her.

As the days at Breaking Dawn had gone by, I'd begun to understand that the toughest part about staying sober wasn't _actually _the whole staying sober part. It was the whole learning to recognize and deal with the things in my life that had pushed me down the path to destruction in the first place part.

_"They're called triggers," Carlisle had told me. "They're the places, behaviors or _people_ in your life that might have encouraged or instigated your addiction in the first place."  
_  
We had already established pretty early on what my number one trigger was.

Bella.

Even if she hadn't been the one to put the bottle in my hand and encourage me to drink from it—I handled that part just fine on my own—her actions had been the catalyst that ultimately sent me over the edge.

The leaving. The divorce. The pregnancy.

All the thinking about her. The talking about her. About our relationship. About all the questions left unanswered and words left unspoken had my control feeling flimsy, tenuous at best.

My cravings were on overdrive whenever her name came up. I wondered if it would ever get better.

I sat forward, grabbing that stupid gardening magazine and bringing it closer. I pretended to flip through it. I knew it wouldn't take long for Carlisle to ask again.

"I know I promised not to push, but Edward, you yourself have admitted that your drinking didn't escalate until you received the divorce papers, and even more so once you signed them. I'm trying to figure out why that is. We can't get anywhere if you can't talk about these things."

"That's just it. We _have _talked about them, Carlisle."

I tossed the magazine aside and focused my eyes on his.

"We've talked _around _them," he replied calmly.

I looked away and stared out the window, breathing deep as my right leg began to shake.

The weather in New Hampshire had shifted since I'd arrived the month before. Winter was approaching, and there were small patches of snow littering the grass outside.

I missed the rain.

The longer I sat, staring, the more I began to realize that yet again, Carlisle was right—if I didn't get these things out in the open, they would haunt me until I wound up right back where I started.

With a bottle in my hand.

"I signed them because she asked me to," I finally admitted.

Carlisle smiled. I kind of wanted to hit him. Or throw the stupid magazine.

"Now we're getting somewhere," he said.

I glared as I waited for his next question. He turned a few pages in his notebook, searching for something. "I was under the impression that the two of you hadn't spoken since the night she left."

_Yes. You were. I wanted you to be. Because I was afraid to admit any of this._

I focused my attention on my feet, feeling ashamed for trying to hide anything from him when I knew he was only trying to help. "I'm sorry."

He tapped the toe of his shoe against mine. "Don't apologize, son. We all have things we want to hide from. You'll understand eventually that those same things you're holding inside right now can make you feel worlds different when they're finally let out. It's not good for anyone to bottle things up."

"Yeah," I breathed, lips round as I released all the air in my lungs. "I know."

After that, my shoulders relaxed but my throat itched so bad that it _burned_. I felt sick just _thinking_ about those few days. When Emmett showed up and I'd found the pregnancy test. The trip to Forks and everything that had happened after.

I picked up my bottle of water from the table and unscrewed the cap for a drink, hoping it would soothe the tickle deep down inside, even if it wasn't the liquid I wanted most at that moment.

As I drank greedily, the bottle emptied fast, and before I could swallow the last drop, Carlisle was standing up to grab me a second one. I figured he must have understood and thanked him quietly.

Then I began to let it all out.

"We spoke once. A couple days after the broken window incident with Emmett. I, uh…made him take me to Forks."

Nervously, I ran my fingers through my hair, dreading the question I knew was coming next.

"Why the sudden need to see Bella after a few months apart?

_Fuck._

Carlisle waited while I worked up the courage to tell him the truth.

"I found a pregnancy test," I admitted. "A positive pregnancy test. Two in fact."

Carlisle's mouth opened in surprise, as I expected it to. "That's quite a discovery."

I nodded. "Yes it was."

"You had no prior knowledge of a possible pregnancy?"

I shook my head, peeling at the label on my bottle.

"What happened when you got to Forks?" he asked.

"She wasn't home." I took another drink. "She showed up not long after we did, though."

"And that's when you spoke to her?"

"No, I tried. She wouldn't get out of the car." I stood up and walked to Carlisle's bookshelf, looking over the titles. That restless, anxious feeling had come back and I couldn't sit still. "Her brother-in-law to be arrested me. For trespassing."

From the corner of my eye, I watched as Carlisle opened my file and began flipping through the pages inside.

"I don't remember seeing any arrests on your criminal record."

"No, because he didn't file any charges. He could have, though," I replied, turning back around and leaning against the bookshelf. I crossed my arms over my chest. "I think he was trying to be a good guy. We were friends in high school…I mean, he _had _to know what was going on."

Carlisle closed the file on his lap and leaned back in his chair. I took that as my cue to keep talking.

"She showed up at my parents' house the next day…just as my dad and I were heading out to go back to Seattle."

"And did you get your answer then?"

I was still so confused about those few days. And by the fact that I'd never asked her the question I'd been hell bent on asking the day before because…it hadn't seemed as important at the time.

All that had mattered was getting her to stay. I just wanted her to fucking stay.

_How could I have possibly thought my own child wasn't important?_

_Because you only cared about yourself._

"There was nothing…nothing there." I hoped he understood what I meant.

"I'm going to assume you mean that physically there were no signs of a pregnancy." I nodded. "If that was the case, do you think it's possible the tests belonged to someone else?" Carlisle asked.

I shook my head immediately.

"How can you be certain?"

I walked back to the sofa and sat down, looking everywhere but at him as I fidgeted and worked to admit what had been weighing me down for months.

"I can't be _sure_…but I'm pretty sure. First of all, whose would they have been? Bella doesn't do girlfriends. And I know her better than anyone. She was never the type of person to let others in on her pain. She suffered in silence." We were a lot alike in that way. "I think deep down I knew she wasn't going to tell me on her own."

I rubbed burning my eyes and took a deep breath. _I was such a fucking coward._

"And I think I knew that if I didn't _ask_, I could just continue to carry on in my own bubble of ignorance and not accept any of the blame or burden of the answer."

"What answer was that?" he asked.

My throat tightened. I felt like I was choking. It took me several minutes to finally get the words out.

"That she lost the baby," I whispered.

* * *

**So sorry this is a few days late. I'm doing my very best to get this updated every day, but it's really difficult with absolutely zero alone time. I'll update my profile with news if there's any kind of delay again. Now that I finally got the boy to talk, I'm hoping things will go a little smoother with the next few chapters. We'll be jumping time again next time. See you then!**

**Thank you for reading!**


	17. Chapter 17

8/4/2012: **Word Prompt**: Train

* * *

There had been a time when I believed that the fog surrounding me and my life would never clear. That the pain in my heart would never fade. That I'd never stop missing her.

That I'd never, ever get over the loss of our child.

I was sure the confusion in my head would never make sense; that I'd never be rid of the guilt soaked knots taking up residence inside my stomach.

And that the urge to numb it all away with a drink and forget everything would never fade.

I thought I was doomed to live that way, stuck and unmoving, surrounded in a world of blurriness. Watching as everything around me changed and grew, while I remained stuck and unable to see what lay ahead of me, no matter how hard I tried.

To my surprise, with all of my skeletons out of the closet, the fog around me began to clear. Gradually, each day, my visions for the future became less and less difficult to picture. To hope for.

I didn't look too far ahead, though. I couldn't.

I had to focus on what was most important: getting through the next twenty four hours. Just so I could wake up and do it all over again.

It was all about the routine.

Constantly, I had to remind myself that the only things I could control in life were _me_. I couldn't go back and rewrite the past. And I couldn't let myself be weighted down by things that I had no power to change. I had to accept them. Because _not _accepting them was a recipe for disaster.

I found myself no longer dreading my morning sessions with Carlisle. I liked them, even. I liked _him_. He never judged; just listened. He knew every bad thing I'd ever done, every bad thought I'd ever had, and no matter what, he was always supportive. Understanding. I thrived on how good it felt to talk to him. To lessen that weight on my shoulders each day and just…learn to let things fucking go.

Leah helped a lot with that.

Carlisle filled my mornings, and she filled my afternoons. She was the hard to his soft. Never really smiling, but cool. Chill. She cussed like a truck driver, and had absolutely no reservations about telling me exactly what she thought.

She was a little like Emmett, only without the dimples and silliness.

And with boobs.

Just like every day, when I walked into her gym, the music was blaring. Bass pounded the mirrored walls, and the smell of sweat hit my nose.

Leah was bent over, touching her toes and stretching. And yeah, even I had to admit her ass looked good in those fucking yoga pants she insisted on wearing all the time.

I may have been an idiot, but I was still a man.

"Hey Pretty Boy," she called out as the door closed behind me, staring at me from between her legs. It was hard to hear over the music, but it was easy to read her lips.

And she'd been calling me that for weeks.

I rolled my eyes and greeted her with a wave before reaching over and turning the volume down on her stereo.

"Torture Queen," I said. She grinned then. It was the only time she really ever did. She took some serious pride in the pain she inflicted on me in our training; said it was good for the soul.

My body disagreed. Carlisle had been right in his warnings about her.

Leah stood up and grabbed her water bottle from the corner while I stayed in front of the mirror and started to stretch out my arms.

"I kind of fucking love it when you call me that."

I crossed my right arm over my chest and pushed against my elbow with my left hand before switching. My eyebrows lifted and I smirked at her reflection. "You would."

She wagged her finger at me. "Watch it, or I'll have that pretty ass of yours working on the Crane pose for the next three weeks."

I groaned. "You promised. Never again."

She laughed and rubbed her hands together. "No Crane, then. What will it be today?" she asked.

"The bag," I replied automatically. It was my favorite.

Leah nodded and went to grab a pair of gloves from the table so I could wrap my hands and tossed them over to me.

"Music?" she asked. It was the question she always asked, knowing my answer would dictate our session for the day. If I wasn't in the mood to talk, my answer was always yes.

Today, I shook my head.

"Okay then." She pointed at me. "Get those skinny ass legs warmed up."

My mouth opened and I narrowed my eyes. "They're getting better!" They were. I had put on weight since arriving. Esme's cooking was too good.

"Stop being such a girl." Leah rolled her eyes and I ignored her.

Once my arms were stretched out, I did what she'd suggested and worked on getting my legs going. I danced in place, hopping from one foot to the other. Leah stepped behind the bag and reached up to tighten her ponytail, then she wrapped her hands around the edges and peered at me around the side. "Ready?"

I nodded and stepped forward, breathing out heavy as I took my first and second hits. Not too hard, but not too soft either. My shoulders lifted and I pumped my arms, focusing as I moved fists against the bag and released…everything. All my frustration and confusion and hurt. The sound of my gloves against the bag echoed around as my fists continued to move.

The endorphins kicked in quick, and today, the bag was clear. There were no faces. No ghosts that needed to be beaten away. I was content. They were at rest. I was glad for it..

Sometimes, I imagined it was that man I was hitting. The one with the black hair and the blue eyes and the hand where it didn't belong. Sometimes, I beat the shit out of him. It felt so fucking good.

Sometimes, though…it was the face I saw every morning in the mirror. The one I knew well. My own. Most times, that's who I was punishing.

Myself.

"Hit it and pull back, Pretty. Don't push me around. Tap, tap, tap. Hit me again," Leah said, snapping my attention back to her by banging her hands on the side of the bag.

Focusing, I sucked in a deep breath and threw out three punches quick and fast. Leah nodded and though her lips didn't, her eyes smiled. I popped out three more and reached up to wipe sweat from my forehead before going in again.

"Breathe," Leah said. "Breathe."

I blew out a breath and did as she said before jumping back in for more. The muscles in my arms burned, and it felt so good to feel so alive. I pushed through the pain and slowed my jabs down, resting a little.

"Three more weeks, right?" Leah asked.

Jab. Jab. "Yep."

"You're staying?"

I nodded. "I decided it was best. For now."

"For what it's worth, I think it's a good idea."

I snapped back in and pounded the bag a few more times, trying to remember to keep my feet moving. "Can I be honest?"

Leah narrowed her eyes. I chuckled.

My feet stopped moving and I dropped my arms. "I'm scared to death." My chest rose and fell quickly as I struggled for breath. I bent over, resting my hands on my knees for a minute or so and then stood back up.

Leah was leaning against the bag, arms crossed over her chest. "It's natural to be scared. Did you know that ninety percent of alcoholics relapse?"

"No," I replied.

"Yeah. And I'll tell you this, in my experience, I know that going back to the places and people where the behaviors you're trying to quit started is a really fucking stupid idea. Why do you think I'm here?"

I stared at her dumbly.

"I'm from Hawaii, Pretty. But…I couldn't go back there after I got clean. And now, this is my home. I've been back, a few times, you know to visit and stuff. But I don't ever want to live there again. I think if I would have gone home after my ninety days were up with Carlisle, there's about a one percent chance I wouldn't have relapsed. I would have went right back."

"Yeah," I breathed. "I've talked to Carlisle, and really, I don't know that I'm strong enough to be that close to…things quite yet."

"That's understandable."

"I'm lucky that I have some amazing parents who're willing to help me out. My father's going to pass along fifty percent of his freelance business so I can work again, and Carlisle's offered to let me live in his rental house. And I'm going to go to meetings, and find a sponsor and I'm going to stay here. In New Hampshire. My parents are going to come for Christmas and help me get settled," I rambled on.

So many decisions had been made in my final weeks at Breaking Dawn. Most importantly: what was going to happen on day ninety one? Was I going back to Washington? I decided it was best that the answer to that question be no.

I wanted to be one of those ten percent. I knew that would never happen if I went back home.

"You know I still go to meetings, right?" Leah asked.

Yes I knew. "Yeah."

"So ask me to be your sponsor dummy."

I smiled. "Really?"

She reached up and squeezed my cheek. "Sure. I kind of like your pretty pretty face. Plus, it means I get to torture you on the regular once you get out of here."

I swatted at her hand, laughing. She turned away to grab her water and took a drink. I did the same, considering the conversation as over.

But there was one thing she needed to hear first…

"Lee?" I said. She looked over at me and widened her eyes, water bottle still in her mouth. "Thanks."

* * *

**I'm only going to say this once...there will be zero Leah/Edward in this story. **

**Thank you for reading! I love your reviews. It makes doing this so much fun.  
**


	18. Chapter 18

8/6/2012: **Word Prompt**: Collide

* * *

_Who knew the grocery store could be such a scary place?  
_  
My hands gripped around the handle of my cart. My forehead began to sweat, I could feel it. Running down my neck. My heart pounded in my ears. I licked my lips and breathed deep, focusing on the plethora of cereal boxes in front of me, as I tried to make a decision between Cocoa Puffs and Cocoa Krispies.

Trying to pretend that just two aisles away, heaven wasn't waiting. Icy cold and full of temptation.

This always happened. Ever since the first time I walked in here, not thinking, and made the mistake of looking up and reading the contents of aisle eleven.

I swore I could smell it, the alcohol. I could fucking taste it. I was sure I heard it calling my name.

I was sure I wouldn't make it out of that store alive.

I had stood there, frozen, for what felt like hours before I'd finally worked up the nerve to call Leah that day and admit that I needed her help.

She arrived within fifteen minutes.

I released my grip on the cart with my right hand and reached into my pocket. I wrapped my hand around the phone I knew was there. I knew if I called, she would come again, and she would hold my hand and walk me past aisle eleven and then she'd kick my ass even harder tomorrow because she'd understand that I needed it.

It was the way it'd been since I officially left Breaking Dawn as a patient, three months ago.

My parents had arrived the same day, on Christmas Eve, to spend the holiday with me and help me get settled in my new place. They'd been gracious and kind enough to pack up my things in Washington and commit to making the drive here, along with my car. It'd felt so good to wrap my arms around my mom again. To hear my father tell me how happy he was to see me smiling, and for him to look at me with pride in his eyes again.

They'd stayed through the New Year. I was glad for it. I was glad to not be so alone in those first few days. Being out, on my own again—officially—was scary as hell. I'd meant what I said to Leah that day in her gym, I had been scared to death.

I don't think I slept a wink for at least four days. I was too paranoid of having so much freedom. So much time to think and to remember and to regret. I had to constantly remind myself what Carlisle had said: keep busy. It doesn't matter what you're doing. Just keep doing something. Don't erase all of the progress you've made.

So I did that. I kept busy. I'd taken on quite a few of my dad's clients. I spent my days working from the office I'd set up in Carlisle's rental. Mom had helped, adding small touches here and there. The wood was all dark wood, the chair big and leathery and with imaginary fingers that wrapped around you the minute you sat down. I spent hours in there, creating, and feeling energized and motivated by the passion it had always inspired in me.

I also continued to spend most of my afternoons with Lee.

She had become the very definition of a rock. She'd taken far more than her share of late night, early morning, and all day long phone calls like a champ, though. She never made me feel like I was a bother. And that was important.

Not only did she save me from the grocery store, she held my hand when we walked into my first meeting, and she actually smiled when I stood up and bravely said the words, "Hello, my name's Edward…and I'm an alcoholic." for the very first time.

I trusted her like I hadn't trusted anyone…except for one person.

But with Lee, it wasn't like that. I didn't see her that way. And I wasn't looking for a relationship. Not then and probably not for a while.

I had thought a lot about the words Bella said to me that day in my parent's driveway. How she'd said that we really didn't have anything but each other. She was right. Everything in my life had been about her or had stemmed from my relationship with her. I spent all my formative years with hearts in my eyes and never looked for anything more. I never truly had anything that was my own, and that's why, when she'd left…I had fallen to pieces.

As far as I was concerned, I had to learn how to hold myself together without any help from a woman before I went out looking for love again.

And definitely before I ever went back to Washington.

When my old life collided with my new one…I didn't want there to be any doubt that I could exist on my own, and still be strong.

With that thought, I took a deep breath and I grabbed the box of Cocoa Puffs, tossing it into my cart forcefully before surging forward.

I didn't need Lee, or Bella, to hold me up. I didn't need anyone but myself.

Determined to prove it, I turned left at the end of the aisle, kept walking right past aisle ten, and held my head as high as it would go as I continued and walked right past aisle eleven without so much as a second glance for the first time ever.

* * *

**Sorry this is a bit of a shorty, but it was important that you understand where E's head is at with respect to his decisions not to go back, and with healing himself before he even attempts to go back and consider a relationship again. Recovering addicts are encouraged not to engage in relationships, sometimes for years after their recovery. You have to learn to take care of yourself before you take on the responsibility of caring for anyone else.**

**Thank you all so much for reading, and for your wonderful reviews. I cherish them all.  
**


	19. Chapter 19

8/7/2012: **Word Prompt**: Foreman / **Plot Generator—Idea Completion**: Dressing for success.

* * *

'_The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can never end. ~ __**Benjamin Disraeli**__'_

_.  
_

One of the hardest things about living a _new_ life, in a new place, was wishing I could pick up the phone and share how good a _good _day felt with the one person who I'd once shared all of my best days with.

Bella.

In the months after I left Breaking Dawn, she was never far from my mind. No matter what the accomplishment or achievement, big or small, there was always this errant thought in my head about whether or not she'd be proud of me.

I would pick up the phone sometimes, and stare at it, almost bursting with the desire to call and tell her every little thing. I'd even mime the dialing of her old cell number, wondering if it even still belonged to her.

_It would be so easy_, I'd tell myself.

But then I'd stop and wonder whether or not she even cared any longer. If she even thought of me anymore. And then I would wonder if she thought of me fondly, or if after the things I'd done, the only thing that remained in her heart for me was contempt.

There were always those fears that I'd ruined things forever. The terrifying thoughts that I'd live the rest of my days without ever hearing her laugh or seeing her beautiful smile again.

Without ever knowing the real truth about the end of our relationship.

As desperately as I wanted those things—those answers—I knew they couldn't be mine unless she chose to give them to me. I had to accept that just because I had a clear head didn't mean I had a free pass to do whatever I wanted. Our lives had changed, separated, and grown in different directions. If our paths _were_ to ever cross again, I would have to let _her_ come to _me_.

I just never expected that she _would_.

It was simple.

Just one card. Just one simple little card.

It was a Saturday, and the summer in New Hampshire had started. The sun was shining, warming everything around.

I was dressed and ready to leave in the outfit Leah had deemed appropriate after making me go shopping—khaki cargo shorts and a plain black t-shirt. She insisted that just because I didn't leave the house for work anymore didn't mean I shouldn't try dressing for success. Plus, I'd been working out with her at least five days a week for months, and a lot of my old clothes no longer fit. She said she was tired of seeing me in sweatpants.

It was lucky for her I'd been tired of wearing them.

The kids next door were playing in their pool in the driveway, laughing and splashing around. I smiled as Mrs. Weber waved to me, shoving my hands deep into my pockets as I made my way toward the street. Leah was running a few minutes late, and I'd decided to check the mail before she showed up.

My birthday was only a few days away, and Carlisle and Esme had planned a barbecue at their house to celebrate not just that, but the fact that I was about to pass the nine month mark in my sobriety.

I hadn't expected anything to be in there except maybe some bills.

I definitely hadn't expected what was inside would change things.

Again.

Once I reached the street, I opened the box and peeked inside. The sun shined in behind me, lighting up the contents inside.

There were a couple of magazines, a few smaller envelopes, and…

My heart pounded all the way down into my toes when I caught the first glimpse of an oversized white envelope lying haphazardly on top.

I knew her handwriting so well. All those messy curls and loops wrapped around my name.

There was no doubt in my mind who the envelope had come from.

It wasn't until Leah beeped her horn at me that I realized I was still standing in the street, staring at my mailbox like what was inside might reach out and bite me.

I broke my stare with the envelope and looked over at Leah. She gave me the universal hand gesture to hurry up, and I immediately snapped out of my daze.

I grabbed what was in the box and slammed it shut, holding up a finger to Leah as I ran inside to grab my wallet, keys and phone. I dropped everything on the table except the biggest envelope and went back outside.

Leah knew something was up the second I climbed into her car.

"What's going on, Pretty? You look a little like you've seen a ghost."

She had no idea.

"This came today." I held it up for her to see.

She didn't say anything then, she waited until we'd made the five minute trip and were stopped in Carlisle and Esme's driveway to reach over and snatch it from my fingers.

"Who's it from, you think?" she asked, flipping the envelope over in her hands.

As stupid as it is to admit, I felt the loss immediately. It was an envelope, for god's sake. A fucking envelope!

But still, I wanted it back the second it left my hands.

With a shake of my head, I quickly snatched it back from Leah, scowling as I wrapped my fingers around the edges and held it against my still pounding chest. I took a deep breath and looked over at her across the car. "I know who it's from."

She held up her hands, palms up. "Enlighten me, then."

I swallowed.

She waited.

And then I said it out loud for the first time.

"Bella. It's from Bella."

Lee was quiet at first. I watched her eyes bounce between my face and my hands. She bit her lip. "Well, are you gonna open it or what?"

I hadn't even thought about opening it yet. Nor had I considered what could be inside.

For all I knew, what was inside would kill me.

I had died enough times. I wasn't ready to willingly do it again.

_What if it's a wedding invitation? What if it's _her _wedding invitation? Would she be that cruel? Were there papers I forgot to sign, or money she didn't want that she was trying to give back? Why else would she have sent it?_

And how did she get my address?

My parents would have said something. If she'd asked, they would have told me. At least I hoped they would have. Emmett on the other hand…he probably wouldn't have said anything. And I know for a fact Rose never would have. She'd gotten even grumpier since they found out they were having a baby later this year.

Whomever it was that had given her my address without telling me, and whatever the reason…those thoughts scared me.

The possibilities scared me.

And I wasn't ready to know what was inside yet. I needed time to prepare.

Before I could rethink it, I opened the glove box and shoved the envelope inside, quickly slamming it shut. "I can't right now." I ran my fingers through my hair and opened the car door, angling my body to get out. I turned back to Leah. "I just want to enjoy this day. Let's go inside, we're late."

She gave me about a twenty minute reprieve, until she pulled a classic sister type move.

The four of us had just sat down to eat, and everyone was digging in to the delicious steak, corn on the cob and baked potatoes when she said, "So, Edward got something in the mail today." Then casually picked up her glass of iced tea and took a long sip.

"Leah!" I hissed, dropping my fork.

Carlisle and Esme were both quiet, staring between the two of us as we battled across the table with looks.

I sent her a 'how could you' and she sent me a 'you fucking know better' right back as she set her glass down and crossed her arms over her chest.

She lifted an eyebrow.

I huffed.

She smiled.

Carlisle and Esme stayed silent.

Finally, I pushed back from the table angrily, knowing she was right. I did know better. I didn't hide from shit anymore.

I went to Leah's car and was back in less than a minute.

"Edward?" Carlisle asked, rising from his chair.

I took a deep breath, staring down at the envelope I held in my hand. I hadn't noticed it before, but there was a return address on the back.

_B. Masen  
5220 42__nd__ Ave. S.  
Seattle, WA 98118  
_  
"She didn't change her name," I mused out loud, shocked to still see part of her connected to part of me.

It made me hold the envelope even tighter.

"Honey, you're scaring us. Who didn't change their name?" Esme asked.

I looked up into three pairs of curious eyes.

"Bella," I whispered. "Bella didn't."


	20. Chapter 20

8/8/2012: **Word Prompts**: Deterrent, recurrent, abhorrent

* * *

_"Honey, you're scaring us. Who didn't change their name?" Esme asked._

_I looked up into three pairs of curious eyes._

_"Bella," I whispered. "Bella didn't."_

.

.

.

Time stood still as it sank in that she'd kept my name. I don't know why it mattered, or why it was so significant, except that it _was_. I had spent almost two years believing she wanted nothing to do with me ever again, and all along, she'd kept a part of me with her.

Nobody spoke as I stared down at the envelope in my hands. There were too many implications involved for me to begin figuring out what it could mean. Still, nobody said a word as I was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to open it. To see what was inside. Good or bad.

I couldn't stand not knowing for a second longer.

Hand shaking, I flipped it over and slid my finger under the flap, not caring when the paper ripped. I slid the card out between my fingers, took a deep breath, and flipped it over.

It was the silliest thing I'd ever seen.

I covered my mouth as I laughed out loud.

On the front, a golden retriever, seated, smiling…and wearing a birthday hat.

Inside, the printed words read:

**_Happy Woofday!_**

And just below that, the same handwriting from outside the envelope.

The same handwriting I would know anywhere.

Two words. It was only two words.

But they were everything.

_Love,  
Bella_

Love.

She'd written _love_.

Not 'from' or 'sincerely' or some generic hugs and kisses.

_Love._

I smiled as I ran my thumb over that one word, feeling the indentation her pen had made, deep inside the paper. Sort of like the marks she'd left on _me_. Even if the ink ever faded, some part would still remain. Forever.

A throat clearing brought my attention back to the three people around me, still waiting for answers. I'd gotten so lost in thinking about what was inside the envelope, and then dazed by the answer, that I'd almost forgotten I wasn't alone.

I looked up. "It's a birthday card," I explained, my smile a mile wide.

"From Bella?" Carlisle asked.

I turned toward him. "Yes."

"Oh, how nice of her!" Esme gushed from the opposite side of the table.

I nodded, carefully sliding the card back inside the envelope before I rounded the table and took my seat again. I placed it on the empty chair next to me.

"Let's just eat, okay?" I asked, moving my eyes around the table as I picked up my fork. The card was too much to handle; too much to discuss at that moment. I needed time to process first. Everyone seemed to understand.

We carried on with our dinner and then enjoyed some of Esme's delicious chocolate cake after the sun had gone down. They sang to me—badly—and there were even presents. A gift card from Leah for more clothes. I'd rolled my eyes and laughed at her card: 'just contributing to keeping the pretty as pretty as he can be.'

From Carlisle and Esme, I'd received my own leather-bound journal. It was something Carlisle had encouraged me to do back in the beginning, when I'd first arrived at Breaking Dawn; to write down my thoughts and feelings. I'd never had much luck with it then, but I was thankful for the reminder as I read the short note Carlisle had written inside: 'it's never too late to start again.'

Boy was that the truth.

It wasn't until later, when Leah had pulled into my driveway to drop me off, that she finally asked the same question I'd been asking myself earlier. "How do you think she got your address?"

I shrugged. I still wasn't sure. But I was planning to find out very soon. "I don't know yet."

"Are you okay?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

She sighed heavily and yanked on her ponytail. "Look, this is going to cross the line from sponsor zone to friend zone—"

I cut her off. "We both know you've never _just _been in the sponsor zone, Lee."

"Well then forgive me if I'm overstepping, but that," she pointed at the envelope lying on top of my other gifts across my lap, "pisses me the fuck off."

"What?" I asked, shocked. "Why…"

She shook her head, looking annoyed. "Let me ask you this. Do you think she knows why you're here?"

I swallowed and looked down. I hated thinking about her knowing. "Yeah, I mean…I assume she does."

"So don't you think it's kind of a dick move on her part to send that? And even more than that, on whomever it was that gave her your address without your permission?" She looked to the left and spoke toward the driver's side window. "I just don't want one silly birthday card to derail all the work you've done and the progress you've made."

I knew how protective Leah was of the people she kept close. Myself included. Her reaction shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. I wasn't sure what to say, but I was sure that what she feared wasn't going to happen.

"Lee?" I touched her shoulder and waited until she looked back at me. "It's not," I promised. "It's not."

I had to admit, there was a dormant, darker part of me that flared up and agreed with Leah's reservations. I mean, I couldn't not wonder. _Why now_? Why had she contacted me _now_, after all this time…and all the…well, everything we'd been through. I could understand how Leah might think it was unfair for Bella to insert herself back into my life with one card. I could even see how, at one time, I might have felt the same as her.

But it was the reborn, rational and _stronger _part of me that actually saw the card for what it was, because I knew Bella.

It wasn't pushy, because she wasn't a pushy woman. She never had been. And it wasn't a demand either. Or even a request for her to be allowed back into my life—god knew _that _scenario would have gone down differently anyway. I'd have been the one begging at _her _door, not the other way around.

In my eyes, it wasn't anything other than a reminder that said, 'hey, I'm still here' and more importantly, 'the ball is in your court now.'

The decision on what would come next was up to me.

.

.

.

I was glad I had three months to prepare myself.

On September ninth, five days before Bella's birthday, I got in my car and drove into town. And then I spent two hours in the greeting card aisle at Walgreen's.

I must have picked up and read a million of them before I found the right one. The same annoying girl asked if I needed help thirteen different times. She didn't deter me from my mission, though.

I wanted simple and silly, like she'd sent. Just something to repay the gesture.

To send the ball back.

Justin Bieber did it. As I opened the card, he began to sing the most ridiculous song. I jumped and laughed out loud, looking around to make sure nobody had been watching.

I opened it one more time, still smiling. I knew it would make her laugh. I _wanted _it to.

The message inside was exactly what I'd been searching for:

**_Justin and I hope you have a sangin' birthday!_**

.

.

._  
_  
At home, I pulled it out of the bag and then, laughing the whole time, I added my own message before I sent it to Seattle…

_Love,  
Edward_


	21. Chapter 21

8/9/2012: **Word Prompt**: Hoop

* * *

Despite Leah's fears, and possibly even some of my own, the cards didn't change anything. Well, that's not entirely true. They did change one thing, but it was for the positive. They breathed new life into my determination not to fuck shit up anymore.

Later that September, I officially celebrated three hundred and sixty five days sober. And though it was just one small hurdle in a very long race, I was happy that I'd proved everyone wrong and stayed on track.

At one time I knew that Bella's reintroduction into my life might have derailed everything. At one time, I might have jumped right off course and went running straight back to Washington without thinking twice. But I wasn't that boy anymore.

I was a man.

A man who recognized that just because I wanted it didn't mean I could have it.

.

.

.

My phone rang from the opposite side of the house and I smiled instantly. I had a feeling I knew who it was.

Emmett.

I rushed toward the kitchen, grabbing the phone from the counter as I went. Upon answering, the first words I heard were: "She's coming! She's coming!"

I laughed to myself and stared out the back door. The sun was just setting and I could already see the moon growing brighter.

"How far apart are her contractions?" I asked, enjoying the fact that for once it wasn't me who was freaking out about something. It was him.

"Only about two minutes. Doc says it shouldn't be long now," Em replied, breathing a little heavy.

"I'm so happy for you, Man."

"Thanks, E. I wish you could be here to meet her with us," he sighed.

I ran my fingers through my hair and turned, leaning against the counter and crossing my ankles.

"I wish I could be there too. But you understand why I'm not, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed. "I get it. Just seems weird to be doing this without you."

I chuckled, but he was right. It was weird for me, too. Being a part of my family and friends' lives while not _actually _being a part of their lives was difficult. Accepting that I wasn't the only one changing and growing up was even harder. I knew that when I did go back, everything would be different. And I knew the reason I couldn't go back yet was because the idea of that sent me to five meetings a week and had Leah kicking my ass constantly in the gym.

"You've got other friends, Em."

"Yeah, but they're not you."

We were both quiet for several seconds, until Emmett started snickering.

"Listen to us, we sound like a pair of sissies. Let's change the subject."

I shook my head at his dumb ass. "Who all's there with you?" I asked.

"My parents are here somewhere. They were hungry and went off to find some food about an hour ago. I told them I'd call as soon as something happened."

"Is…" I cleared my throat, not sure I wanted to ask, but also knowing I'd kick myself if I didn't. "Is Bella with Rose?"

Emmett hummed a negative. "No. She had to work today, but she's on her way now. I think your parents might even be coming from Forks. Your mom's supposed to call me back in a little bit."

I grinned to myself, happy that even though I couldn't be there, the new baby was going to bring all of the people I loved together.

"Tell everyone I said hello, and you better send me pictures once she's here," I urged.

"I will," he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. "Listen, I better get going, I just heard a crash and one of the nurses went running from the birthing suite. I promise to send you pictures as soon as I can!"

.

.

.

Later that same night, Emmett and Rosalie welcomed their first child into the world. Little Annabelle McCarty was a seven pound, four ounce carbon copy of her daddy. Brown curls up top and dimples that were so deep it was as if god had poked each cheek and deemed her perfect before sending her down to them.

In the few days that'd passed since she was born, Em had sent so many pictures I was afraid my phone would explode at any moment. But I loved every single one.

The Saturday after, I was out with Leah having a late lunch and telling her all about my new 'niece.'

"Did you send a gift?" Leah asked around a bite of salad.

I took a bite of my own burger and shook my head. "Not yet. I was hoping you could help me with that. I have no fucking clue what a baby needs. I tried to look for something online and got so overwhelmed I had to close the page."

She giggled, loudly and drew the attention of everyone in the restaurant to our booth. I narrowed my eyes and tossed a French fry at her.

"They've got a registry, right?" she asked, still giggling. "Everything they would need is on there. How do you not know this?"

I shrugged in response and continued to enjoy my burger. I'd never done any of this shit before. How was I supposed to know?

"They probably have everything they need from there anyway, right?" I asked.

Leah rolled her eyes and shoved her hair behind her ear, looking frustrated. She'd been doing that constantly since deciding it would be a good idea to cut her hair so short. "Maybe." She took a drink from her water. "What about jewelry? You can never go wrong with something shiny and pretty when it comes to girls. Does Rose have her ears pierced?"

"I have no fucking idea." Her trucker vocabulary was wearing off on me.

"Find out." She shrugged.

I picked up my phone and sent off a quick text to Em. In less than a minute I had a response: _yes_.

Later that night I sat down at my computer and Googled 'baby jewelry.' It wasn't long before I found the tiniest pair of gold hoop earrings I'd ever seen and sent them off to Washington with the message:

_Can't wait to meet you, little one._

_Love,_  
_Uncle Edward_

* * *

**I really wish I could say the delay here was because I spent all week writing ahead so I could give you all lots of updates at once, but sadly that isn't the case. All of my planned writing time sort of went out the window with some unexpected changes.**

**Thanks for hanging in there and understanding. I'm hoping to give you guys another update today, but I'm not making any promises. See you next time.**


	22. Chapter 22

8/10/2012: **Word Prompt**: Schedule

* * *

That November, I opened my mailbox to find another large white envelope with that same loopy handwriting on the front. My heart pounded just like it always did when I knew she was near.

I could lie and say I hadn't been hoping for it...but that obviously wouldn't be the truth. I was hoping for more from Bella all along, even if I hadn't been relying on it.

Inside the envelope was a card wishing me a _Happy Turkey Day _and several pictures of my family and friends holding a tiny little baby in their arms. The one that I liked the most was on the bottom, though.

Bella, seated on a rocking chair in a room of pinks and greens, with the same sleeping bundle in her arms. She looked so beautiful.

I think I smiled for days.

About two weeks before Christmas I sent her one back, wishing her a good holiday and a happy new year. My parents arrived a week later, and my mother had tears in her eyes when she saw the picture still resting on my desk. I didn't have the heart to put it away.

All throughout the following year, the cards continued. Back and forth, back and forth. We didn't say much, but in March, I did add to my regular two word message before I sent it off.

_Thank you._

A few weeks later, her reply came, wishing me a happy Easter. And she'd added a bit, too.

_You're welcome._

In between the cards, my schedule remained the same. I needed it to. I hadn't screwed up yet, but that didn't mean if I allowed myself to slack that it wouldn't happen. I kept strict hours every day, working through the mornings with a cup of coffee and spending my afternoons with Leah when I needed it.

My sessions with Carlisle had lessened, but I still visited them for dinner at least once a week. Esme had even tried teaching me to cook. Though she said I handled spaghetti well, she wasn't happy with the size of my chocolate chip cookies.

I still didn't understand why I couldn't make one giant cookie. It seemed like the best plan to me.

In May, I received what looked like a homemade card wishing me a very happy _Lumpy Rug Day_. Mrs. Weber next door stood on her porch and watched me laugh in the street as I read the handwritten message Bella had added to the bottom:

_Regular holidays are boring. May all your rugs be unlumpy this May._

That set me off on a mission, and sent me into Photoshop after some Googling. Near the end of the month, I sent my next card to her.

_Happy  
Happy  
Repeat  
Repeat  
Day  
Day!_

Later that month I received another birthday card. And then a few days later, a package. From Bella. I could try lying again and say it didn't make my entire fucking year, but…it did. In my excitement, I didn't even make it into the house before I'd torn it open with the edge of my keys.

There was no card, just a post-it note on top of a four pack of chocolate pudding. And all she'd written was:

_Can you believe they actually have an entire day devoted to chocolate pudding?_

It warmed my heart to think she remembered how much I used to love those snack packs when we were younger. Her mom always bought them; my mom didn't. She'd teased me plenty of times when we were kids about them, saying I only loved her for her mother's pudding cups. I always insisted it wasn't her mother's cups I was after.

And after Bella's mom passed away, I got into the habit of buying them myself. Or begging my mother to. Whenever Bella was sad, I'd whip one out because I knew it would make her smile. Every single time.

I couldn't help but wonder when we'd lost that childhood innocence, and be thankful that while I may have forgotten some things…Bella had not.

My next card to her included my own reminder about our past. It was Esme's handwritten recipe for pecan pie. Bella's favorite. I didn't add anything else, because I didn't need to. I was sure she'd get the hint that I remembered how good we once were, too.

As summer came to a close and another year on my sobriety was about to come to an end, I made a decision after receiving another card, from another address in Washington in my mailbox. It was an invitation. To a first birthday party.

_Please come and help us celebrate Annabelle's first birthday!  
Saturday, October sixth at 1pm!_

I called Emmett right away, because it was time. I was ready.

I couldn't hide out in New Hampshire forever.

"Edward," he answered on the second ring.

And with a smile in my voice, I told him I'd received the invitation.

And then I said, "I think…I'm coming home."

* * *

**Yes, there really is a Lumpy Rug Day – it's May third. And Repeat Day is June third. Chocolate Pudding Day? That's June twenty-sixth. I swear. Google it. I really hate transitional chapters, but these two needed to happen for Edward and me to get to what's about to happen. I hope you guys are ready to celebrate Annabelle's first birthday. ;)**

**Thanks for reading.**


	23. Chapter 23

8/11/2012: **Word Prompt**: Sedate

* * *

"Pretty, if you don't stop bouncing that leg, I'm going to sedate you. With this." Leah held up her hand and wiggled her tiny fist around in front of my face.

With a snort, I closed my eyes and leaned further into my uncomfortable coach seat. My hands were wrapped so tight around the plastic armrests that I could feel it shifting under my grip. I was anxious and excited and fucking _nervous_, and yeah, my leg was on a mission to bust through the airplane floorboard because I couldn't stop thinking about the last time I'd been on an airplane, almost two years ago; to the day.

"Sorry," I muttered, breathing in deep. "It's just…a lot."

Leah reached over and peeled the fingers of my left hand away from the armrest and squeezed. "If you're not ready for this, we can turn our asses around and go right back home, you know."

I rolled my head in her direction and opened my eyes. I was so thankful she'd agreed to come along for moral support, but she needed to understand that this, where we were going…Washington…_was _my home. Putting off the inevitable wasn't going to get me anywhere.

"I never planned to stay in New Hampshire forever, Lee. Sooner or later I have to face this. Sooner or later, I have to face _her_," I said. "I'm ready."

And I meant it.

.

.

.

By the following morning, I was seriously rethinking that statement.

I had tossed and turned for most of the night, worried about what was coming and whether or not I was going to be able to make it out of this trip sober. I'd lain in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours after my parents picked me and Leah up from the airport and brought us back to the hotel. It'd been so good to see them, but I was dead tired. Flying east to west tends to do that to you. But once my head hit the pillow, I couldn't seem to shut my mind off.

All I kept thinking was: _I'm in a familiar place; I know all of the stores to go to, and all of the bars that are open late. Nobody would know. It would be so easy…  
_  
A late night phone call to Leah, who was just down the hall, had set me straight. She'd affirmed what I already knew deep down. Nothing—absolutely _nothing_—about that scenario would be easy. It would be like giving up again. Like falling back down and starting from the bottom. Neither one of us was willing to let that happen.

She even threatened to sit in front of my door to make _sure _it didn't.

Even though I'd been able to snag a few hours of sleep after we hung up, I was still feeling a little sluggish by morning, and the knot in my stomach refused to go away. After a shower and pulling on some clothes, I stood in front of the mirror and ran my fingers through my hair, taking one final look before I was out the door. Seattle was freaking cold, so I'd decided on dark jeans, one of my hoodies and a face full of three-day-old scruff. I didn't want it to look like I was trying too hard. Even if that's exactly what I was doing.

Down the hall, I knocked on Leah's door and waited for her so we could head downstairs to meet my parents. They'd driven down from Forks the previous afternoon, and we'd all agreed to meet for breakfast before heading to Em and Rose's house for the party. And though I was nervous, I couldn't fucking _wait _to see my friends, and meet my adorable niece.

Even more than that, though…I couldn't wait to see Bella again.

There had been a lot of things I'd left unresolved when I went to New Hampshire; things that I'd been forced to accept may _never_ have a resolution throughout my recovery. I'd had no other choice at the time, because you know what they say…_grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change_. But she'd opened up communication by sending that first birthday card, and with that, she'd allowed a small part of me back into her life.

Seeing her again…being friends with her again, and maybe, someday _more _than friends…was a second chance I never thought I'd have.

I didn't want to screw anything up this time.

Leah opened the door and handed me a tiny pink bag, overflowing with tissue paper. She actually smiled. Sort of. "It's all ready."

I grinned in return. Little Annabelle was going to be sparkling by days end. "Thanks."

"No problem." Leah pulled on her coat, holding the hotel room door open with her foot. She flipped off the switch in the hallway and stepped out to join me in the hallway. "Ready?" she asked.

All I did was nod.

I wasn't able to eat much at breakfast, but I didn't mind. Just sitting and chatting with my parents made me happy. Once everyone had finished eating, we all piled into my father's SUV and headed into Bothell, one of the nicer suburban areas of Seattle where Em lived.

He was waiting on the porch, pacing, when my father pulled into the driveway. I was barely on my feet before he was in front of me, grasping my hand and pulling me into the customary man hug. "Dude!"

I laughed as he pulled away, smiling. "Hey," I said, trying not to seem distracted as I searched the street for a familiar car. I wanted to know if she was here yet. We'd made arrangements to arrive a little early so we could all catch up since we knew most of the day Em and Rose would be tied up with other guests. I breathed out slowly when none of the cars around looked like hers.

Once I had my head back on straight, I introduced Em to Leah, and then he had to take my mom for his customary dance before he shook my dad's hand. Then he said, "Come inside, come inside," while motioning us toward the house.

As we drew closer, I noticed that Rose was standing in the doorway; arms crossed over her chest and no smile to be found. I still hugged her.

"Welcome back," she said, her eyes moving to Leah. "Who's this?"

I turned and gestured toward Leah. "This is my friend from New Hampshire, Leah. Leah, this is Em's wife, Rosalie."

In any other situation, the two girls probably would have shook hands or acknowledged each other or something. But that didn't happen. I hadn't realized it before, but those two were a lot alike. Stubborn as hell.

Rose hugged my mom and dad, and ushered us all inside as she said, "Annabelle's sleeping, but she should be up soon."

We all sat down on the couch, talking and laughing as everyone caught up. And if I'd thought seeing my friend be a father through pictures was hard, seeing him talk about it in person was even weirder. He'd grown up, and even though we were only twenty-six, there were some slight patches of gray beginning to grow at his temples. I marked that down to tease him about later as I excused myself to the bathroom.

After I'd done my business and washed my hands, I was stopped in the hallway by the sounds of little baby babble. Annabelle's door stood barely open, and I looked quickly down the hall before sneaking inside to meet her for the first time. She sat up and reached out for me as soon as I was near her crib. "What are you doing?" I whispered.

"Da, da, da, da, da," she said as I picked her up and held her in my arms.

I shook my head, smiling down as I corrected her. "Not Dada. Ed-ward." I drew my name out and she just stared up at me, probably wondering who the hell I was.

Her hair had grown a little; her curls were sleep-messed and flying high. She had her mom's blue eyes and Em's dimples, which had only gotten deeper as her face had filled out. She smiled, reaching up and squeezing my cheeks as she giggled loudly. I shushed her and playfully bit at her fingers, causing her to giggle again as I pulled her forward and blew a raspberry against her cheek.

Annabelle started in with the da-da-da's again, and right as I began to correct her, a laugh from the doorway stopped me cold.

I knew that laugh.

My heart took off like an Olympic runner, and my arms tightened around the little girl in my arms. She was distracted by the strings on my hoodie—all innocent and oblivious to the moment that was about to happen in the very same room. I breathed in deep and let it out slow.

And then I turned around, slowly.

The beating inside my chest picked up as I took in the sight of her. Arms crossed, resting against the frame of the door. Her skin was pale-bright and pink tinged. Lips full and round. Her brown hair had grown out since the last time I'd seen her; in that cursed picture that had knocked me down and sent me into the sky. Her eyes were wide and happy as she looked me over. And I wondered what she thought of my new, bulkier frame. My longer hair and unshaven face. I wondered if I looked as different to her as she did to me.

She had grown up so much. She wasn't the girl I fell in love with anymore. She was a _woman_. A woman I hoped I'd get the opportunity to fall in love with all over again.

We watched each other quietly while I tried my hardest to ignore the burning in my limbs. The _need_. The desire to touch; to hold and to never let her go again.

I couldn't believe I'd been stupid enough to let it happen the first time.

"What's going on in here?" Bella asked, finally breaking the silence and saving me from the word vomit I'm sure was about to spill from my lips. She took another step into the room, and Annabelle noticed. Her babbling turned to a high-pitched squeal that sounded like 'beeeeeeeee' as she turned and leaned in Bella's direction, lifting her hands up; all one-toothed-smiles and love for the girl who stood in front of us.

Could you blame her? I certainly couldn't.

Bella lifted her hands, brushing her fingers across mine as I transferred Annabelle over to her. I wanted to hold on; to keep them both close.

"Hi, Princess," she said as she buried her face against Annabelle's, covering her with loud, smacking kisses and causing her to giggle.

I laughed, feeling freer and happier than I'd been in over three years as I watched them interact. I shoved my hands in my pockets, still trying to think of something to say that wouldn't make me look like a complete idiot. But watching them together…seeing Bella laugh and smile like that, only reminded me that at one time, we'd had the chance to have what Em and Rose had.

My mouth opened, and before I could stop them, or consider the fact that it wasn't the right time, the words were out...

"You would have made such an amazing mom."

* * *

**Thank you, everyone, for reading. Especially Jaime, who was kind enough to make me such a beautiful banner (I'll update my profile with a link) and for being so supportive. **


	24. Chapter 24

8/13/2012: **Word Prompt:** Rant

* * *

_"You would have made such an amazing mom."_

As soon as the words were out, it felt like the temperature in the room dropped. I shivered, and time seemed to stand still as everything else around me disappeared. Except for Bella.

She was all I could see.

Of all the things I'd considered saying to her the first time we saw each other again, that definitely hadn't been it.

It wasn't even _close_.

I'd wanted to be prepared, so I'd stood in front of the mirror every day for two weeks trying to get it right. I practiced a head nod, and a _what's up_ and a _hey _with a head nod, and I figured out quickly that shit just made me look like a tool. A simple hello was what I'd decided. Just one word.

Hello would have been so much easier. But when had we ever done things the easy way?

The words were out there and there _was _no rewind button on that moment. I couldn't take it back; no matter how much I may have wanted to.

All I could do was wait for her to react.

I watched as the happy light in her smile faded, dimming slowly into sadness as her eyes opened wide, showing me all that colorful brown-gold I'd missed so much. Desperate, my eyes moved across the length of her arm. I longed to touch _somewhere_; to feel her warmth—her life—and to somehow soothe her with some of my own.

And I'm not sure what I expected to happen, but I know it wasn't what actually _did_. With wide honest eyes, she said, "I'm pretty sure you would have made an amazing dad, too."

All the air in my lungs rushed out as she said it. It was an admittance I hadn't expected her to make; the answer to a question I'd been both craving and fearing for two years. What those words meant made me uncomfortable; even though I'd already accepted what I believed to be the truth about what'd happened, it didn't make it any easier to hear her basically confirm it.

My heart picked up like that Olympian was back inside my chest, and suddenly I felt warm all over; stifling hot. I tugged at the neck of my hoodie and shifted on my feet, wanting _so badly _just to go to her. I knew I should say something—do something—I just had no idea what. There were too many questions I wanted to ask and things I wanted to know. And it just wasn't the right time or place for any of it.

As if sensing my inner turmoil, Bella carried on as if the moment hadn't even happened. Her focus shifted away from me and right back to the little girl we'd both come to honor that day. Annabelle giggled as Bella twirled her around in a circle. "Are you ready to get dressed for your party, Princess?" she asked, at the same time Emmett chose to interrupt us.

"Edward, there you are!" he boomed. "I was just showing Leah the Mustang, and we were beginning to think you fell in." He thumbed over his shoulder toward Leah standing in the hallway behind him. They both laughed at his stupid joke as he walked into the room and over to the changing table where Bella had set Annabelle down and was in the process of getting her dressed.

"Is Auntie Bee putting on your birthday dress for you?" he asked, making a goofy face at his daughter. His antics set Annabelle off on a fresh round of giggles, causing all of us to laugh right along with her.

Even with our distraction, I didn't miss Bella's eyes lingering on Leah's unfamiliar face. Nor did I miss the questions I thought I saw in them.

My family and friends all knew and understood that Leah was my sponsor, my support, and nothing more. I already knew Rose wasn't happy with my decision to bring her along; she'd proven that point with the nasty ass look she'd given me when we arrived. But there was a reason Leah was here, and I didn't want Bella getting the wrong idea because of a rant Rosalie might choose to go off on.

I wanted to be sure there were no doubts about exactly who Leah was—and was _not_—to me.

Gathering my courage, I motioned Leah into the room with us. "Lee, come in, there're a few girls I'd like you to meet." Once she was at my side, I gestured to a now standing Annabelle, who was all decked out in her pretty pink birthday dress. She bounced on chubby legs, holding tightly to Emmett's index fingers. "This is my niece, Annabelle," I said with a grin in my voice. Of course, Leah knew Annabelle wasn't _really_ my niece, but Em was the closest thing to a brother I'd ever had. If anyone's kids were going to call me 'Uncle Edward' it would be his.

Leah surprised me by revealing a rare smile as she bent down to Annabelle and greeted her. She reached up and slid her fingers across the girls' chubby little cheek. "Hi Birthday Girl! I'm very happy to meet you."

As she stood up again, I stepped closer to Bella.

"Bella, this is my friend Leah from New Hampshire." I looked at Leah. "And this is my Bella," I finished, gesturing back and forth with each introduction. Both Leah and Emmett's eyes snapped to mine immediately. I had no idea why they were looking at me funny until I realized exactly what I'd said.

_My Bella.  
_  
Fuck. I buried my hands in my hair and floundered a little as I rushed to correct my mistake. "I…shit— I mean shoot! Oh, earmuffs!" I huffed out a breath. "You know what I meant…"

It was Bella who laughed at me first that time, and then they all joined in.

"It's okay, old habits die hard. I get it," she said softly, smiling at me as she stepped over to shake Leah's hand like what I'd said wasn't the hugest fuckup ever. It was the second time she'd done that, and I couldn't help wondering why. "I'm Bella. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too," Leah replied, her tone light, even though I knew she probably had to work pretty hard to make it sound that way. She wasn't a huge Bella fan. I'd given up trying to change her mind. She'd promised to be civil, though, and I knew she'd keep that promise no matter what happened.

Rose's voice floated down the hallway then, reminding us that she hadn't intended for her daughter's first birthday party to take place in the nursery. And even though I wanted everyone else to leave so I could stay with Bella alone, I knew it wasn't going to be possible.

I just hoped we'd get a chance to talk again before it was time to leave.

But she wasn't the only girl I'd come to see. I quickly scooped up my niece, carrying her from the room as she stared up at me, drooling and gnawing on my hoodie strings again. She was adorable.

My mom invited Leah into the kitchen with her and the girls so they could finish setting up all the food. She seemed to be okay with that. I just hoped Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf—Bella and Rosalie—continued being nice to her. While they were off doing all that, I carried Annabelle to the living room and took a seat on the couch, and before guests could arrive, I took the chance to catch up with Emmett and my dad a little more. I decided Emmett gossiped like a woman and wondered how he knew the shit he knew. I couldn't deny it wasn't nice getting updates on people I hadn't thought of in years, but it did make me nervous who he might have been sharing my secrets with.

God knew I had plenty of them.

Before the girls had finished, the doorbell began to ring. While Em got up to answer, I stayed on the couch with Annabelle in my lap, holding her as people approached to fawn and coo at her. She was eating it up with smiles and jumpy arms and legs. All little bursts of excitement fighting for freedom.

There were only a few faces that were familiar. Sam, a buddy of ours from college and his son, Isaiah who I learned was three. He looked good, and when Leah joined us on the couch, I didn't miss the way his eyes looked at her appreciatively. I kind of liked the idea of Leah finding someone here in Washington.

If it worked out, maybe I wouldn't have to say goodbye to her when I finally made the decision to come back home for good.

The next faces weren't as familiar as Sam, but I remembered them from a few parties we'd thrown in the dorms back at school. And it was hard seeing these people from my past, because they all wanted to know what I'd been up to and why they hadn't seen me in so long. And I wasn't ashamed of my illness, of the disease that had overtaken me, but I also didn't want the first thing out of my mouth after however many years to be, 'I got married. Got divorced because I'm a big fucking idiot. Started drinking. Couldn't _stop _drinking, and then overdosed on cocaine!"

Nobody wanted to hear that shit, and I certainly didn't want to tell it. So I went with the standard, easy answers instead.

The next time a familiar face popped up, my heart picked up in my chest. Alice had grown up. Her hair was longer, and the lines around her smile were a little less easy for her to hide. She looked a lot like her mom, more-so than Bella ever had. No, Bella was all Charlie. I took a deep breath as she and Jasper greeted Bella first, hugging and smiling as they talked in quiet whispers. I could say I didn't watch them, but I did. I tried to be subtle about it though. It's much easier to pretend when you've got a baby who can run a distraction away from you with the best of them. I wiggled Annabelle around after standing her up on my thighs, keeping her upright and in one spot with my grip on her little hands, peeking at them over her shoulder whenever I could.

I wasn't sure how Alice would handle me being in the same place as her sister again, since the last time hadn't gone so well, but I hoped she'd at least remain civil while we were in mixed company.

It was Jasper who approached me first, breaking away from the girls' conversation to join me by the couch. He offered his hand and a smile. "It's good to see you again, man. How've you been?"

"I've been okay," I said, looking up. I was pretty sure Jasper knew everything I wasn't saying anyway. "Working, you know how it is."

He nodded. "Yeah, sounds about the same as us."

I chuckled, opening my mouth to respond when Alice appeared at his side. I smiled at her, still wiggling Annabelle back and forth. "Hey," I said.

"Hi," she said, smiling in return. "Welcome home."

"Thank you."

She leaned in to kiss Annabelle on the forehead, whispering to me as she pulled away, "Please be good to her."

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. "I will," I promised.

As they stepped away, I didn't miss Bella watching us from across the room.

.

.

.

I was eventually forced to give up Annabelle as everyone gathered in the living room.

We all watched as Rosalie and Emmett made a futile attempt at getting Annabelle to be more interested in the gift than its wrapping. She was adorable, and obviously spoiled. I was damn proud of my gift, though. When she finally got to that little pink bag, I smiled when Rosalie read out loud, "This is from Uncle Edward."

Rose pulled the tissue paper out, and then the small black velvet box that lay inside. She looked up at me with soft, albeit narrow eyes. I urged her to open it with a jerk of my chin.

Inside was a pink tourmaline—her birthstone—tennis bracelet, custom fitted to Annabelle. One that, as she grew, could be added to with the links I'd had removed. The jeweler had promised she'd be able to wear it for as long as she wanted.

"Oh, it's beautiful," Rose whispered, fastening the bracelet around Annabelle's chubby little wrist. "Thank you."

All the attention made me a little uncomfortable. It was one of those moments when I would have wanted a drink; or something to hide behind. Without that crutch, I felt a little lost with the attention. It was the first time that day I'd freaked out. I thought it would be Bella, and then, I was sure it'd be Alice. Who would have thought it would wind up being the praise I received for one simple gift?

I focused my eyes on Leah's, silently telling her I would definitely need a meeting that night. I could feel it creeping up, and I knew the entirety of the day hadn't even fully hit me yet. She offered me a nod and reached over to squeeze my hand. She just got it.

I didn't miss Bella noticing that, either.

.

.

.

Once the cake had been eaten, by us anyway—Annabelle wore hers, all the other guests began to trickle out until the seven of us were the only ones who remained. Except for one icing and cake covered little girl. She'd torn into that thing like a pro, and it was everywhere. In her ears, her hair. Up her nose. I was so proud.

And I was laughing because it was Emmett who Rose was making clean it up.

Feeling weary, and still needing to bolt so I could expel some of the energy that always came along with a craving, I was anxious to get out of there before I lost it. I stuck it out long enough to see Emmett try to clean bright-pink icing out of his daughter's nose before I admitted to him that I was feeling that way and needed to go.

He understood. He was my dude.

Downstairs, we said our goodbyes to Rose in the kitchen with my parents. Everyone hugged, and when I came face to face with Bella, I wanted a hug from her too. God did I want it. I still longed for that warmth, but it wasn't the right time. So when she offered a small wave paired with a smile, I offered her one right back.

And then I left my heart standing in Emmett's kitchen.

It was Bella's voice that stopped me in the driveway, just a breath away from my fathers' car. Leah stepped around the other side quietly, getting in to give us some privacy. My parents did the same. I watched Bella's face; her chest lifting up and down as she caught her breath. She held up her hand and I buried mine in my pockets, rocking back and forth on my toes. My stomach twisted and turned and then she finally said the words I'd needed to hear all fucking day long.

"Can I see you again before you leave?"

My eyes closed and I sighed out a heavy breath. When they opened, I hoped she saw the relief I felt. "Absolutely," I said.

She smiled so bright it lit up the almost-dark street and held her hand out, shaking it a little. I pulled one hand out of my pocket and pushed my palm toward hers. She placed a folded piece of paper in my hand and then used her fingers to close mine around it. She squeezed my hand once before turning away and walking toward the house without another word.

I opened my palm and picked up the piece of paper, unfolding it to read what she'd given me.

It was her phone number.

* * *

**Baby steps. Tiny little ones. **

**I completely intended to have this up yesterday, but obviously that didn't happen. I hope it was worth the wait. Thank you to those who are reading, and to those of you who get it, it makes this endeavor completely worth the time. To that one reader who wished death on these characters, I hope you find more constructive ways to expel your anger. See you all soon.**


	25. Chapter 25

8/14/2012: **Word Prompt**: Fence

* * *

After Bella disappeared, it was the knocking from inside my parents' car that grabbed my attention and brought me back to the present. Somehow yet another of her small but meaningful gestures had me pulled in every direction imaginable, and for a second I'd forgotten which way was up.

After a deep breath, I spun around, smiling, and pulled open the door. As I climbed inside, nobody asked, but I was bursting to tell.

"She gave me her phone number," I said, a little smugly, sounding every bit like the teenage boy I used to be. All awe and pride and fucking excitement.

The problem was…considering what to do with it next.

The answer to that question didn't come until later that night, as Leah and I sat surrounded by a group of men and women who'd been through exactly what we had. Those who understood what it meant to be an addict. It was then that it occurred to me that if Bella and I were to ever have any kind of chance, I had to let her see every part of me. Including the bad. She needed to not just know what'd happened after she left, but to understand it.

And the only way for that to happen was for her to hear me tell _my _story.

.

.

.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Leah asked, every bit the sponsor and none of the friend. She wasn't asking the question to be difficult; she was asking the question because she wanted me to be sure.

I stared down at the phone in my hand, the same one I'd been staring at for two days, and then lifted my eyes to hers. "No," I responded, trying to be honest. "I'm not sure about anything right now, but why can't I leave the decision up to her? At least…then I'll know. But is that even fair to her? To drop all my shit on her shoulders the first time I see her again?"

"As your sponsor, I think it's a great idea to invite her, Edward. As your friend though…I'm hesitant to be happy about you rekindling a connection with her. Because I'm scared for _you_. I don't want to see you get hurt again." I could see the sincerity of what she'd said in her eyes.

"You think the idea of that doesn't scare the shit out of me, Lee?" I asked sharply, tossing my phone on the table petulantly and crossing my arms over my chest. My knee bounced with my frustration.

Leah watched my phone bounce across the table, and then lifted an eyebrow. "I didn't say that, Pretty."

"I'm sorry, this isn't your fault." I buried my face in my hands. "You shouldn't have to keep holding my hand. I should be able to make this decision on my own. I don't know why I'm still sitting on the fence about it."

"Everybody needs a hand to hold once in a while," she offered.

I peeked at her between my fingers. "Even you?"

She nodded. "Even me." She popped another grape in her mouth, not even bothering to finish her bite before she grinned and started talking again. "But not today because I have a date with your hot beefcake of a friend, Sam."

"Oh you do, do you?" I smirked, happy Leah was enjoying her trip to Washington instead of spending the entire time at my side. Yes, she had come along as moral support, but that didn't mean I wasn't all for her having some fun. It wasn't a question for me whether or not she'd be there if I needed her. I had no doubt at all that she would.

"I most certainly do."

"Tell him if he's not good to you, I'll kick his ass."

"I will tell him no such thing. If he's not good to me, he's going to know that _I _will be the one kicking his ass."

I laughed, finally picking up my fork to cut into my own breakfast. "Well then, I'm here if you need me."

She wiped her hands and stood up, coming around to my chair and ruffling my hair a bit. "I know that. And I'm here if you need me." She grabbed my phone and set it on the table in front of me. "Call her. Then you'll know. Jump off the fence, Pretty. The worst thing she can do is say no."

.

.

.

Bella picked up after two rings, breathless as she shouted, "Hello?" into my ear.

On the other end of the line, there was a loud ringing, making me wonder exactly where she was and what was going on. I swallowed slowly, feeling a little worried she might be in trouble.

"Bella? What's going on over there, are you okay?" It was an instinctual question; one I didn't think I'd ever be able to stop asking.

A door slammed and the sound of bells ringing muffled as her breathing picked up. "Edward?" she asked, her voice hesitant, almost…disbelieving. Like she hadn't expected me to actually call.

"Yeah, it's me," I breathed, curling my hand into a fist as I paced the length of my hotel room.

"Hi," she said, laughing lightly. It was a sound I'd missed so much. It made me wonder what she looked like right then. If her hair was up or down. If her heart was pounding as fucking hard as mine suddenly was.

"Hi," I whispered in return, not sure what else to say. I felt all awkward and out of place, something I'd never felt with her when we were together. There had never been any questions in the past; now there were a million that I didn't have answers to, and a million more I was afraid to ask.

Bella cleared her throat. "I'm sorry it's so noisy. We're having a bit of an issue with the bells at school today. They won't stop ringing," she laughed again, and I smiled. "Lucky for me, they sent all the kids home. Not so lucky for me? They can't get the bells to stop ringing."

I snorted and tugged at my hair, circling from one side of the bed to the other before I got up the nerve to ask her if she wanted me to call back when it was less crazy.

"No, no…unless you _want _me to call you back?" she asked hesitantly. "I'm hiding in my classroom closet; there aren't any loudspeakers in here. Is it any better?"

"Yeah," I said, picturing her on the floor of a little closet surrounded by school supplies. I was glad to know she'd finally done something useful with the degree she'd put so much work into and that she was actually teaching. "It's better."

She sighed. "Edward?"

My heart pounded. "Yeah?"

"I'm glad you called."

"I'm glad you let me," I responded, my chest suddenly tight. And then without waiting for her to say anything else, I asked, "Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" She sounded surprised, almost a little scared. I realized a second too late how many possible answers my question had.

I palmed my forehead and chuckled nervously. "That you wanted to see me again before I leave," I explained.

"Oh!" She giggled. "Yes…If— If— If you want to…" she stuttered. I could almost hear the blush in her voice.

My shoulders relaxed as I finally took a seat on the bed. She still wanted to see me. She'd said so herself. I just needed to ask.

It was the moment of truth.

"I actually called to see if you might want to come see me speak, um, tomorrow night," I rushed out. "At a meeting…I mean, you don't have to. It's probably too soon…I just thought—"

"Really?" Bella interrupted.

I blew out a huge breath. "Really."

"I'd love to."

"Really?" I asked. We both laughed.

"Without a doubt," she answered.

* * *

**I planned to include the meeting in this chapter originally, but it needs a little more tweaking. I'll have another update for you guys sometime today. I hope. Thanks for reading and for your wonderful reviews.**


	26. Chapter 26

8/15/2012: **Word Prompts**: Candle, **handle**, vandal

* * *

They say telling your story isn't something that can be scripted, and they're right. I discovered how true that statement was the first time I went to a meeting and tried to tell mine.

For days I'd written myself notes; just little thoughts and sentences that popped into my head. I wanted to be prepared. To be ready to talk. But when I was finally standing up there at that podium, looking into a hundred different pairs of eyes, nothing that came out of my mouth was what I expected. And when all was said and done, I realized that was actually a _good _thing.

When you speak from the heart—from inside you—instead of trying to say what you think sounds the best, people can tell the difference. They can tell who, of those brave enough to speak at all, are being truthful…and those who are not.

So with that in mind, I tried _not_ to think about what I was going to say when it was my turn at the podium. I tried not to plan or prepare, because I wanted my words to be honest. I wanted them to actually _mean _something.

I just hoped that they would. And that I wasn't setting myself up for yet another huge disappointment.

The drive from our hotel to the rec center felt like it took a year, when in reality, it was little more than a twenty minute drive. My palms were sweaty on the steering wheel, and I was driving much faster than I should have been in downtown traffic. I slammed on the brakes as another light turned red and growled under my breath. I couldn't help the anxiety coursing through me. It was a big night. I just wanted to get there.

"Edward, son, I think you should slow down a little," Dad said, putting his hands on the dashboard to keep himself from flying through the windshield as I slammed on the brakes again.

"Sorry." I eased off the gas a little and took a few deep breaths.

Mom's hand squeezed my shoulder from the backseat. "It'll be fine, Sweetheart." I met her smiling eyes in the rearview mirror for a moment before focusing back on the road in front of me.

"What if it's not?" I asked, knowing that if this went badly, I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle it.

It was my father who answered first, giving me the same words Leah had just a few days before. "Then at least you'll know."

I sighed as we finally pulled up outside the rec center and parked, thankful that my parents were—and always had been—so supportive of everything I did. Even this.

A few of the faces inside were familiar, but none of them were the one I was looking for. She'd promised to be here. And though I was ninety-five percent sure she'd keep that promise, there was that five percent that wondered if she would change her mind like she used to do all the time.

I tugged at my hair as my mom worked to straighten out my button-down shirt and dad disappeared to fetch coffee. My eyes moved to the door every second.

Mom put her hands on my cheeks when she was done, bringing my attention to her. She smiled up at me. "I'm proud of you, no matter what happens tonight. You know that, don't you?"

I smiled in return. "I do." I wrapped my arms around her. "Thank you," I whispered before pulling away.

As we separated, my eyes caught on familiar brown. Standing in the doorway, her eyes searching, was Bella.

_She came.  
_  
Her hair was up, twisted this way and that; loose curls falling all over, out of place…but not. She looked as nervous as I felt as her eyes roamed over all the unfamiliar faces in the room, moving until they landed directly on me. Her smile lit up the room.

And then so did mine.

She didn't hesitate to come over to us, steps quick-fast and full of hurry, arriving just as my father returned with coffee for both he and mom. I tugged at my shirt again, breathing slow as Bella stopped in front of me. She looked even better up close.

"Am I late?" she whispered, slightly out of breath. "My GPS thinks it's funny to send me on wild goose chases."

I shook my head, snickering as I buried my hands in the pockets of my jeans. "You're perfect."

Her mouth fell open and thank goodness my mother was there to save me. She stepped forward and hugged Bella. "It's so good to see you again, Honey."

"It's good to be here," Bella replied, stepping back and then accepting a hug from dad as well. Her eyes didn't leave mine for a second, though.

And fuck, I wanted to hug her. Touch her. Something. But we weren't even close to being ready for that. At least, I knew I wasn't close to being ready for that.

It was the screech of a microphone as one of the group leaders stepped up to the podium that finally broke our silent stare-off. Everyone's attention shifted to the front of the room.

"Ladies and gentleman…" It was the man I recognized as Jacob, who we'd met on Saturday. He was one of the ministers at a local church, and also thirty years sober. He was the one who'd ultimately convinced me that asking Bella to be here was a good idea. "We're going to get started, so if everyone could please take their seats."

A flurry of activity went on around us as everyone moved to sit. I watched them move, only then realizing that I had a choice to make. I could ask Bella to sit with me, or let her go to the back of the room where my parents had already picked out a few empty chairs.

"Did you," I started, and then lowered my voice as I stepped closer. "Did you want to sit with me, up there…" I pointed to the front row. "Or go with my parents?"

She twisted her fingers together, staring up at me from beneath her lashes. "I'd like to sit with you…if that's okay."

"Yes," I said, a little too quickly and totally unable to hold back my smile. My hands itched with the need to touch her as I motioned her to walk ahead of me. And even moreso when she took her seat and crossed her legs.

God, I missed those legs.

Needing a distraction, I focused my attention down front after taking my own seat. I tried to ignore the warmth I could feel from Bella's arm touching mine just the littlest bit. Up on stage, Jacob was back at the podium, shifting papers around. He tapped them together and then looked up, eyes scanning the room as he smiled. He was older, probably my dad's age if I had to guess, and an all-around nice guy. Definitely someone who was suited to run these kinds of meetings.

"Good evening," he began. "This is the regular Tuesday night meeting of the Seattle group of Alcoholics Anonymous. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Jacob and I'm an alcoholic, but I'm also your Secretary." He tapped his papers on the podium again. "Alcoholics Anonymous is a fellowship of men and women who share their experiences, strength and hope with each other so that they may solve their common problem and help others recover from alcoholism. There is no requirement to join the club other than a desire to stop drinking. That being said, I'd like to welcome you all here tonight."

As he continued on, observing the customary moment of silence and then leading us all in the serenity prayer, I couldn't help watching Bella from the corner of my eye. I was looking for a reaction. For anything that would tell me she wasn't comfortable being here. But if she _was_ uncomfortable, she gave absolutely nothing away. She was focused, listening intently to every word as the meeting progressed through readings from chapter five of the _Big Book_ and then the _Twelve Traditions_. She kept her hands folded neatly in her lap, only lifting them when Jacob opened up the floor for people to speak. She chewed her thumb and then rested her fingers over her mouth.

"Tonight's gathering is what we _Friends of Bill _like to call a Speaker Discussion meeting. We're going to hear from a group of individuals tonight who have made it, who are now sober, and have lived to tell their story." He smiled. "That being said, who'd like to go first?"

My stomach dropped, and I felt sweat gathering on the back of my neck. I was glad I'd worn a dark fucking shirt. Without waiting for anyone else to respond, I stood up first and lifted my hand into the air. I wanted to get up there and get it done. I knew that the longer I waited, the more stressed out I was going to be.

And I had waited long enough.

My steps were quick as I climbed the stage. I didn't look back at Bella, because I was too afraid the lump suddenly forming in my throat would grow and I wouldn't be able to speak at all.

Jacob shook my hand, leaving me on stage alone as I moved closer to the microphone. My hand wrapped around the heavy twenty-four hour chip I still kept in my pocket. It was always with me. Always reminding. I looked up into the audience and cleared my throat.

"Hello," I said. "My name is Edward, and I'm an alcoholic." I paused as a chorus of 'Hello Edward's' filtered through the room, smiling nervously as I pushed my fingers through my hair. "Today I've been sober for seven hundred and forty-six days, or to put it in a different perspective, I'll say it's been two years, fifteen days and…" I looked down at my wrist. "…about six hours since I took my last drink."

I could feel Bella's eyes on me, but I still avoided looking at her as I continued. I didn't want to see the disgust in her eyes when I admitted the dirtiest parts of me.

"It wasn't until after my childhood sweetheart, and my wife of three years left me that I began drinking heavily. It started gradually, a beer here, a shot there." I shrugged. "I completely used alcohol as a crutch back in the beginning. It was a way to numb the pain away because the reality of my situation was unbearable, even though I'd let her walk away. I just…couldn't accept that she was gone, and I couldn't accept that it was all my fault. I let myself be consumed by the bottle; I let it grab hold of me until I fucking needed it. Every day; several times a day. As much as I could get it." I curled my hand into a fist and held it against my chest, feeling the warmth of that little chip I had wrapped inside my fist. "I let it become a replacement for all the things in my life that actually mattered, and worst of all, I let it send me into the arms of other women until it almost killed me," I choked out, my eyes burning as I tried to blink away the tears that were ready to fall.

It took me a few minutes to start again, and I still couldn't look at Bella, even though I could feel her eyes on me. I took what felt like my hundredth deep breath and looked out into the crowd, seeing nothing but sky as I continued, thinking back to that night when everything had finally come crashing down around me.

"Bottom for me was the morning I woke up in a hospital bed and had no idea how I got there." I shook my head. "All I remember was seeing a picture on my best friend's fridge the day before of my wife with another man. And it killed me, almost quite literally. I was so gone at that point that I didn't _care _what happened to me. I was so messed up I just wanted to…die. So I went home with a woman whose name, to this day, I still don't know, and she offered me something new. She offered me more than alcohol. And I took it, because why not? To me, my life wasn't worth saving at that point. It didn't matter what I put into my body, or whose bed I was in. If it made me forget, I was more than willing to try it." I wiped at my eyes angrily, pissed off that I couldn't hold it together without crying. I stared down at the podium.

"This week is the first time I've been home in over two years since the day after that night. And this weekend, I got the chance to celebrate my niece's first birthday with my family and friends." I couldn't help the small smile that came to my face at the thought of Annabelle's cute, frosting-covered cheeks. "But I also proved something to myself. I proved that all the work I've done, and all the times I've admitted it was _me _who had the problem and not everyone else, were worth it. Because I'm here now, and I'm still sober."

I finally looked at Bella, because everything I said from there on out were the things I wanted her to focus on most. Her eyes were red, mouth hanging wide, and it broke my heart to see her look like that.

Because of me.

Again.

She surprised me by offering the tiniest of nods, just a little jerk of her chin, like she knew I needed the motivation.

"I spent far too much time blaming everyone else for my problems; primarily someone who didn't deserve it. I blamed my wife for leaving me, even though I know now that it was exactly what I deserved. I blamed her for sending me into the arms of those other women because I needed to find something that didn't hurt so much. I blamed her for my alcohol dependence. And she didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve my blame, or my burden or any responsibility for the things I did to myself. She deserved so much more than I ever gave her, and I just…I hope she knows how sorry I am for everything. For every drink, and every moment I made her worry. For every argument and every second of pain I put her through. But what I hope most of all is that she'll be able to look past the boy I used to be, and see me for the man I've become."


	27. Chapter 27

8/16/2012: **Word Prompt**: Ticket

* * *

The thunderous sound of applause filled the room as I spoke the last word of my speech. I stared up, out of breath from the weight that rested on my chest, and then into two brown eyes that were watching me.

My heart—my soul—were raw, opened and left on the floor at her feet. I wondered if she knew that.

She knew it all…and now, I would too.

Would she stay, or would she go?

Was this too much?

Could she ever forgive me for what I had done to her? For what I had done to _us_?

My breath caught as the sounds began to wane.

Bella's hands were crossed, one on top of the other over her mouth; holding in her response to everything I'd said. But her eyes…they spoke. They were hooded, glassy and pleading.

I hoped she could see that mine were pleading too.

_Don't go_, they said.

I watched her shoulders shake with the restrained emotions she held inside, and then her feet were all scramble, moving toward the door. Before I could blink, she'd floated into a sea of bodies that were still standing. My eyes tracked her every move. My shoulders lifted. And then I was moving.

_Not again.  
_  
My booted steps were loud as they echoed across the room. The applause had died, filled instead with tragic silence and shocked gasps as I moved with purpose to follow her. I wasn't letting her get away this time, no matter the outcome. I wasn't fucking laughing like I had that night in our bedroom. I wasn't fooling myself into thinking she would come back. I knew damn well that she wouldn't.

If she couldn't take this—_me_—I no longer feared living without her, but I wasn't going to let her think that running from me a second time would be easy. I wasn't going to just lie down and let my life happen around me again.

This time…this time I was going to be a full motherfucking participant.

I picked up my pace as I chased after her. At the end of the aisle, Bella's hands slammed against the large metal door roughly, and mine repeated the motion seconds later. My palms stung as I fell forward into the chilly Seattle night, hands grasping for purchase on some part of her. I shivered as she remained two steps ahead, avoiding the curious stares of two men leaning against the brick wall sharing a cigarette, and tried to keep air in my lungs as I rushed to catch her.

She rounded the edge of the building and my hands curled into fists. Breathless, I called her name, my voice ragged. When she didn't respond, the anger inside me spiked like never before. All the passion she'd deserved from me the night she left, and all the days before it flooded through me. I wasn't letting her go.

"I let you run once," I said, stopping in my tracks. My voice no longer ragged, but clear and strong. "You're crazy if you think I'm letting it happen again!"

At my words, Bella froze, shoulders lifting with each heavy breath she took. Slowly, cautiously, she turned toward me, shaking as she stared across the lot, right through me. "It's not you I'm running from," she cried. "Don't you get that, Edward?" She repeated the question again, and then again. And _no _I didn't get that.

I tugged at my hair in frustration, taking two small steps closer to her. "What the hell does _that _mean?" I asked.

She watched me silently, her gasping breaths finally beginning to slow. "It means," she hiccuped and sniffled, pointing toward the building. "I didn't deserve any of that. You can't take all of the blame on yourself. You can't because you don't know…"

"Then tell me!" My hands lifted and spread wide, imploring. "Just tell me."

I stepped closer as I spoke, and she covered her mouth again as a fresh set of tears rolled, unchecked down her cheeks. Pieces of her hair blew everywhere with the light breeze, sticking to her lips. She pushed them away roughly, eyes moving frantically. "Not here," she breathed. "Not like this…"

I moved closer still. She didn't step away. Didn't flinch. Her tears were falling like rain. "Give me your keys," I demanded, trying to keep my voice calm. If she didn't want to do this here, well fine, but we _were _going to do it. I wasn't giving her an out.

"What about your parents?" she deflected.

My nostrils flared, frustrated that I was trying to compromise and she was still being stubborn. "I'll text my dad. They'll understand." I wasn't backing down. If she refused, we would do this right here for all of downtown Seattle's Tuesday evening crowd to see.

For what felt like an eternity, I held my hand toward her, palm up, keeping my eyes on hers until she finally obliged and dropped her keys into it. I turned for her Volvo immediately without waiting for her. She had to follow me.

"We can go to my hotel or your apartment. You choose," I said, staring at her across the roof of the car as I stood in front of the drivers' side door.

"What about your…your," she hiccuped again… "girlfriend?"

My eyes widened and dropped to the ground. I tugged at my hair. "She's not my girlfriend, Bella. She never has been, and never will be." I looked up, swallowing thickly. "My heart has…and always _will _belong to someone else."

She covered her mouth again. I hated it. "I'm sorry," she mumbled behind her fingers.

I pulled open the door without saying a word and then climbed in, adjusting the seat to accommodate for the differences in our height. Once I was comfortable, I stuck the key in the ignition and started the car, turning the heat on full blast. The adrenaline that had been warming my body outside was beginning to drain, leaving me cold. I pulled out my phone, firing off a text to my dad as I'd told her I would and waited for Bella to join me.

When she finally opened the door, her body language spoke volumes. She scooted as far from me as the car allowed and kept her eyes on the window, hands moving restlessly around the strap of her bag as she fidgeted with it.

With a sigh, I backed out of the parking space and headed in the direction of my hotel, careful this time to keep my speed at a minimum. I didn't want a fucking ticket adding to the shitpile that the night had turned into. How had I been such a fool? I'd somehow duped myself into believing this could have been easy. I thought I'd say my piece, she'd listen, and then maybe—if I was lucky—she would join me for coffee after.

The ride to my hotel was silent, both of us caught up in our own heads, even though I was bursting with the need to hear everything she had to say. Like why, exactly, she didn't think I deserved the blame I knew rested on my shoulders. My blood was on fire, pumping heavily through my veins. I was glad she hadn't asked me to take her to her apartment, a place I would undoubtedly have to leave when this discussion was over. Who knew what state I would be in by the time she was finished with me? I still knew where all those easy late night places to find a drink were.

Temptation was an evil whore.

The hotel lobby was quiet, lights turned down low in every area but the front desk. Bella trailed behind me as I headed for the elevator, purse gathered inside her crossed arms and her gaze on my feet. I pushed the button once, glad when it beeped and opened right away. I put my hand on the door and turned, motioning for her to go in ahead of me. As the doors closed behind us, I turned and stared up at the glowing numbers as we climbed. Five. Ten. Eleven.

And then we were at my floor.

I repeated my actions from a minute before and held the door for her, looking down into too-sad brown. "To the right."

Bella stepped forward, her steps slow. I dug my wallet out of my back pocket, grabbing the key card as we walked and then quickened my pace. I stopped just ahead of her, and right in front of my door with a deep breath.

When I looked back, her bottom lip was buried between her teeth. She looked scared.

"Bella?" I grabbed the door handle and turned it, wanting her to know that she had no reason to be afraid of me. I was the one who should be scared. "It's just me…"

"I know," she whispered, cheeks coloring slightly.

Feeling more confident that she hadn't run away again, I walked in first, moving toward the window and tossing everything in my pockets on the table. Phone, wallet, room key. I knew she'd followed me even though my back was turned. When I moved my eyes back to her, she still had her bag in front of her chest as her eyes darted this way and that. My heart was suddenly pounding again. It'd been so long since we were in a room together…alone. And I wished, more than anything, that we could go back. Back to when we were happy. When we were Edward and Bella, and we were sure—posi-fucking-tive—we'd be together forever, no matter what.

I avoided looking at the bed, of thinking about how good she used to feel in my arms. How all it used to take were her lips on my neck to soothe me.

That wasn't at all what this night was about.

Quickly, I toed off my shoes and took a seat on one of the chairs, leaving the small loveseat just to my left for Bella. With my knees spread wide, I rested my head in my hands and stared at the floor. All of the adrenaline, emotion and anxiety from earlier in the evening was finally beginning to wane, but the weight in my chest was strong. My heart felt trapped.

I was so fucking tired.

Bella's feet entered my line of sight then, and my eyes lifted slowly as she took a seat in the middle of the couch, curling herself until she was on her knees, brown hair lying softly around her shoulders. With a sigh, she finally let her purse go and it fell with a jingling-thud against the cushion next to her. "I'm sorry," she said, picking at a loose thread on her shirt.

I sighed and stared down at the floor again, growling in frustration. "Stop apologizing for things that aren't your fault."

"Aren't my fault?" Her voice was high pitched and incredulous. She scoffed, and then crossed her arms over her chest. "You _don't_ get to own all of the blame on this one." She laughed, even though nothing at all about this situation was even remotely funny. "That was part of our problem, you know? You blamed yourself if things didn't go right in _my _life."

I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest too. I was feeling defensive. "Your life? I'm sorry if I was under the impression that we weren't individual people, Bella. Forgive me for trying to help you."

"I'm not saying you have to apologize for that, Edward. But what was I supposed to do when you suddenly stopped?" All of her bravado had faded and her voice was soft. She sniffled and I looked away. My leg was shaking, and I couldn't breathe. My eyes burned with the weight of what she'd said, because she was right. I _had_ stopped being there for her during the last year of our marriage, I had given up.

Without waiting for me to speak she went on. "It was like a switch flipped. And I thought…I thought you were just going through a phase. I didn't say anything because I thought it would get better. And it never got better." A sob filled the room, and I couldn't look at her because I knew if I did, I'd fall apart completely. "You were gone all the time. At work, or with Emmett or doing something other than being at home with me. Things were so tense, and there was no reason for it. But I had no idea how to handle that—how to live like that—because all I have ever known is you! When my parents died. When my grandmother died. You were always there, Edward. Always. And then suddenly, you just weren't. I had no idea how to live without you holding me up."

"I'm sorry," I choked out, but she took a deep breath and went on as if she hadn't heard me.

"I found out I was pregnant the same day I left you."

And that...that was what pushed me over the edge. I pushed the palms of my hands against my burning eyes, feeling the weight of each tear that slid down my cheeks. She listened to my confessions, now…I had to listen to hers. I had to listen to everything I did to her. All the ways I'd hurt her. My questions were finally being answered.

"That day," she cleared her throat. "That day was the second worst day of my life. And do you know why?" I shook my head, but I couldn't look at her. "Because it should have been a happy day. I should have been bursting with excitement to tell you. I should have called you immediately, but I didn't, because I was afraid. And I shouldn't have been afraid to tell you—my husband—anything. But I was. I was scared to death, because I thought it would be a crutch for the problems in our marriage. That you'd be so excited about the baby, it would be what finally brought you back to me. And I didn't want our child to be that crutch—that bandaid." My eyes lifted to hers, and my heart broke just a little more. "I thought...maybe if I pushed you a little more, you'd finally agree to go to counseling with me. That if I left, you'd see…and maybe we could fix everything so it wouldn't _have _to be a bandaid. That we could work through our problems and come back together as the couple we used to be."

Several quiet seconds passed before she spoke again. I focused on my breathing, and tried to keep my feet on the floor. More than anything I wanted to get up, run, and find something that burned going down. I wanted to numb away every piece of what she was telling me and forget it all.

"You didn't come after me," she whispered, her voice full of tears.

I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. "Stop," I croaked, because I was done. I didn't know how much more I could handle.

To my surprise, Bella snorted. "No," she said firmly. From the corner of my eye, I saw her cross her arms again. Her eyes were narrowed when I looked up in shock. "I had to sit there tonight and listen to you admit everything, including the fact that you'd slept with _how _many other women? Don't tell me to stop, Edward. It's my turn." She pointed to her chest, looking feistier than I'd ever seen her. She had definitely changed from the Bella I once knew.

She wasn't the mousy young girl I remembered anymore.

"I wasn't prepared at all for what leaving you would do to me," she said, breaking the silence once again. "Did you know stress is one of the main causes of miscarriage?" She didn't wait for me to answer. "Neither did I."

She stood up, and my eyes followed her toward the bathroom. She flipped on the light and closed the door behind her. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to…

She'd already said plenty.

She'd reminded me of all the things I already knew, but hearing them from her mouth... Hearing, without being able to question it or doubt it inside my own mind, how I'd made her feel—what I'd done to her when I'd pulled away from her; from our marriage. It was crushing. More crushing than anything I had ever felt. All this time I'd been blaming myself, and to some degree, I still did. But I could see now that Bella owned her own piece of blame in all of this, and she was willing to admit it…something I still had trouble with. She had no right to keep that baby a secret; to lie to me about the reason she left in the first place. She had no right to keep it from me for all this time, either…but I could understand her reasons for doing it in the first place, and her reasons for continuing to.

She was protecting our baby.

She was protecting me.

But… she was also protecting herself; something I could never begrudge her.

The faucet in the bathroom turned on for a moment, and then the door clicked open. I sat back slowly in my chair as she walked out and came back to the couch. When she sat this time, she didn't position herself protectively. She sat close and reached for my hand. I gave it to her without pause.

Her touch was cold from the water she'd just used to wash her hands, but her skin was soft. So, so soft. She slid her fingers through mine and squeezed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." I opened my mouth to interrupt, but she held up a finger to stop me. "Let me finish, okay?" I nodded. "I should have done a lot of things sooner. I should have told you how I felt. I should have told you how unhappy I was being by myself all the time. I should have told you I was pregnant instead of leaving those tests behind for you to find when I was gone. I know now what I was thinking—I wanted you to come after me. And then when you did, I was too afraid to face you, because my actions had killed our baby." Her face crumpled and she held me tighter. I lifted my hand to her cheek, running the pads of my fingers across her tears to clear them.

"I'll never forgive myself for that, Bella. Never," I told her honestly, finally using my words to tell her the absolute truth.

She opened her dark eyes and looked at me, and then she spoke with conviction. "You have to forgive yourself, Edward. I forgive you." She pulled my hand to her lips and held it there. "I forgave you a long time ago. I just…need you to forgive yourself, so that I can do the same. I can't stop apologizing for the mistakes I made until you can stop apologizing for yours. We're never going to get anywhere until both of us can let go of the past."

And I knew she was right. I needed to let go of the mistakes I'd made—the mistakes she'd made—and actually move forward. I had fooled myself into believing I was ready for that before this trip, but I knew then that I hadn't even been close. I would have never been able to truly move on without hearing her say all the things she'd said to me tonight.

Without pulling my hand from hers, I looked up and swallowed. What I wanted to ask was where we were going. What she saw for us in the future, but instead I whispered just one word.

"Okay."

And it was enough.

* * *

**No excuse for how long this update took. This was a big turning point in the story for these two and I wasn't going to rush it, so yeah, again... I hope it was worth the wait. Hopefully the next one won't take me so long. Thanks for reading.  
**


	28. Chapter 28

8/17/2012: **Word Prompt:** Uniform

* * *

_The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong. – Gandhi_

Mistakes are always forgivable, if one has the courage to admit them. – Bruce Lee

_.  
_

"Ha! False start," Em shouted, pointing at the television as he sat forward in his recliner. He stared in my direction, but his eyes were on the woman to my left. "Five yards, Bella-lou," he taunted, dimples deep. "Your guy is _so _off his game today."

Em grinned and Bella glared, hands curled into the yellow and black uniform jersey she wore. Sitting forward, I managed to hide a smirk beneath the handful of chips I quickly shoved into my mouth. I'd been watching the two of them throw jabs back and forth all night, and I had to admit I was enjoying the hell out of it.

It was a nice change from the mess I'd been for the previous couple of days…

On Tuesday, Bella and I had parted with an agreement to take some time. To breathe. To process everything that'd been said and done.

After she was gone, the first thing I did was call Leah. It'd been just my luck that she was on her way back from her date with Sam. She picked up her phone after one ring, my name a question, and all I'd had to do was say hers in return.

She recognized the tone in my voice; the fear in my silence. Ten minutes later she was at my door.

She stayed with me all night while I cried for the child I'd never get the chance to hold.

And for the marriage I'd let slip through my fingers.

At first light on Wednesday, she dragged me straight to the rec center, and then made me sit through meeting after meeting—story after story—until that hungry, crazed look in my eyes faded. Until the burning, pulsing desire to numb everything away dwindled. Until I was calm. Until I knew for certain that the things Bella had told me weren't going to weaken me. Until I understood that they were only going to make me stronger.

Until I was myself again.

That didn't mean coming here tonight hadn't scared the shit out of me. Even though I was feeling stable, I couldn't shake the fear that Bella was going to change her mind again and suddenly decide she wanted nothing to do with me.

So far, though, things had been going well. Bella showed up just minutes after me, all smiles and happy greetings that set my mind—and my shaking hands—at ease.

She even sat next to me on the couch. Like, right next to me. I couldn't stop watching her or her obvious frustration over the fact that Tennessee was kicking Pittsburgh's ass.

As another penalty whistle was blown, Bella slumped back, crossing her arms over her chest, all red faced and pouty. "These refs clearly have it out for us."

I was shocked. All I kept thinking was: _who is this girl?_ _My_ Bella had never been into sports. Nor had she ever really been into much of anything when we were younger. She was my quiet, shy girl who liked to read and only really talked to _me_. This Bella, however…she liked sports. And from what I'd seen, she didn't try to hide in the middle of a crowded room. She pushed herself front and center and gave back as good as she got. This Bella wore her confidence and sass proudly; like a sexy second skin. It showed in the way she spoke, with her voice clear and strong. In the way she carried herself now, with her shoulders straight and her chin high.

And it definitely showed in the way she had no reservations at all about telling Em to fuck off, which she did as he started whooping once again. Another flag had been thrown on the field. Unnecessary roughness this time.

"Again?" Bella griped, throwing her hands in the air.

"This is what you get for being a Steeler's fan," Em threw out. "These fools think they can make up for a shitty defense by beating the hell out of everyone on the field."

Bella's glare from earlier got even stronger, and this time, I had to cover my mouth to hide the laugh that slipped out. He had a point; nobody liked the Steelers. And they were a little brutal when things didn't go their way.

Unfortunately my enjoyment earned me a whack on the arm. Wincing, I rubbed the spot as I looked over at Bella. "Ow! What did I do?" I asked.

She was all stern-looks, but the sparkling glint in her eyes gave away the playful nature of her poking. "You're not supposed to encourage him," she whispered, jabbing her finger into my arm again and giggling. Once, twice, and then I grabbed her fingers and held them in mine, laughing with her as she squirmed to get away.

And then I realized what I'd done. I froze. Because God…how long had it been since we'd done that? Since we'd laughed together? Since I'd been able to touch her without the weight of resentment or guilt covering my limbs?

It felt so good. So…natural. Her hand was warm in mine. Soft.

Perfect.

I didn't want to let her go.

But I did.

Slowly.

Grudgingly.

Bella's giggles died down gradually, her eyes softening on mine before she shifted her gaze back to the game like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Like my touch—our little moment—hadn't bothered her at all. She laid her hand back in her own lap with a small smile on her lips.

Just then, Rose breezed into the living room with a sleepy Annabelle on her hip, passing over Em completely, she placed her right into my arms instead. Little lips smiled down at me in wonder as I moved to take hold of her.

"Da, da, da, da," she babbled, giggling as I wiggled her around and bit at the fingers she kept trying to stick in my mouth. Snorting, I ducked away from her grabby hands, trying once again to correct her on who I was.

"Edward," I drew out. "Not daddy."

That just earned me giggles from another brown-haired girl in the room… I looked up to find Bella's eyes on me, her smile soft. My heart pounded at the look in her eyes. "She likes you."

"I like her too," I replied immediately, my gaze never leaving Bella's face or her suddenly too-pink cheeks. My eyes traced the gentle slope of her neck, the curve of her lips. There _may _have been some double meaning to my words.

Of course our moment had to be broken by Emmett.

"Would you two stop flirting and pay attention to the game?" he joked. My head snapped in his direction. So did Bella's. Her sharp inhale was hard to miss, and I frowned as Em offered an unapologetic smile.

Bella stood up, suddenly buzzing with energy. Her eyes darted toward the kitchen and then back to me. "I uh…I'm going to help Rose in the kitchen."

And then she was gone.

Once she was out of sight, I sighed as I tossed a really hard plastic toy at Em's head, and then covered Annabelle's ears. "You're such a dick."

Em's smile was still unapologetic as he dodged the doll-sized weapon. "What?" He shrugged. "I was only speaking the truth."

"Did you really have to blurt it out? We're…" I stopped and lowered my voice. "It's complicated. You know that, Em. Don't make it more messed up than we've _already _made it."

Finally his smile faded and he gave me a nod. "For what it's worth, it was nice."

"What was nice?" I asked, my attention half on him and half on the little girl in my arms.

He shrugged again, his eyes on the TV. "Seeing the two of you actually laughing again. Seeing you guys together…and _happy_."

My eyes flitted to the kitchen doorway. "Yeah," I breathed, smiling as I admitted the truth. "It feels nice too."


	29. Chapter 29

8/18/2012: **Word Prompt**: River

* * *

Two days after Leah and I came back from Washington, I logged on to my laptop, pulled up Google and then ordered Bella flowers. Cheesy, I know. But, it wasn't something I'd ever done before. It wasn't a tradition of ours; something that would remind her of our past.

It was fresh and untainted.

Perhaps a tradition for the future.

Since the moment I'd said goodbye to her at Emmett's house, I couldn't stop thinking about when we'd get the chance to speak again.

Then I remembered I didn't _have _to wait to find out.

I also realized something else. It was that my marriage hadn't fallen apart because I cheated, or because I hadn't loved my wife, or her me. It'd fallen apart because I took for granted that Bella would always be there.

And she let me do it.

_That _was why our marriage had failed. Somewhere along the line, I had forgotten to give, and she'd forgotten to take. But I knew the consequences of not giving now, and I think seeing Bella's grown up, confident attitude told me she'd learned a thing or two about taking.

I wanted her to see that I'd changed too. The flowers were my give, sent with shaking hands and eyes squeezed tight. My heart pounded as I clicked the _Order Now _button.

I'd signed the card _Love, Edward_.

.

.

.

The following afternoon while I was working in my office, my cell phone rang. Without looking at the screen, I picked up. "Masen Architecture."

"Thank you, they're beautiful."

Bella.

There was a smile in her voice. I smiled, too.

"They're not too much?" I asked, feeling a little unsure and nervous now that I knew she'd seen the simple, brightly colored fall flowers I picked for her. And read the two word message inside the card.

She laughed. "Too much? Not at all."

I pushed out a big breath. "You have no idea how fucking glad I am to hear you say that."

There was still laughter in her voice. "Why?"

"I don't want to overstep." I shrugged, even though she couldn't see me.

Bella was quiet for almost a minute. I breathed in, out. Sat forward in my chair and removed my glasses, laying them on the desk and then returning my fingers to the bridge of my nose.

"Edward, do you know why I sent you that birthday card?" she asked finally. My mouth dropped open. Not what I was expecting.

But I _was_ curious. "No…but I'd like to."

"I sent it because you wouldn't have. Contacted me, that is." Bella just kept on going. "Something I'm pretty sure will never change about you is that you'll do anything the people you love ask for, and even those they don't. Once, I asked you to stay away. I didn't expect you to come to me first without knowing you could do it without hurting me. Maybe that sounds self-absorbed—"

"No," I cut her off. "You're absolutely right." She was. I would have stayed away as long as I believed she wanted me nowhere near her life. It was the reason I hadn't ever tried contacting her after that day in my parents' driveway. She'd asked me to let her go, and I would have continued doing what she'd asked for as long as I thought it was what she wanted.

She sighed on the other end of the line. "So no, you're not overstepping," she said. "Honestly, it was the nicest thing anyone's done for me in a while."

I wasn't sure why that comment made my heart suddenly feel like it'd doubled in size, but it did. My chest ached with the weight of it. "I'm sorry for all the times I didn't do nice things for you."

"I'm sorry, too," she replied. It wasn't a nice response, and it wasn't an argument. It was acceptance and recognition. We both understood how our mistakes had affected our lives.

I decided to change the subject. "I'm glad you did, you know," I told her. We hadn't really talked about the letters, cards or pudding while face to face. "Send the birthday card, I mean. I'm glad you sent it."

"Well you should know it makes me equally as pleased to hear you say _that_." That smile was back in her voice, and I closed my eyes, picturing it. Curving, plump pink lips appeared behind my lids.

While we were on the subject of that first card, I had to take advantage. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Who gave you my address? Em swears up and down it wasn't him. So does mom."

She was quiet, and I could hear her teeth scraping her bottom lip. "Umm, they're telling the truth. It wasn't Em or your mom…" She mumbled her next words. "It was Rose."

"What?" I asked, a little astonished. I was pretty sure Rose didn't even really _like _me. "Tall? Blonde? Hates me? No way."

Bella snickered. "It's the truth. She might seem tough, and I know the two of you have your differences, but she really does care about you, Edward. You're important to Emmett. And Emmett's the most important thing to her. She's been…a great friend to me. And she pushed me to do what I hadn't done before, which was to tell you everything. She said it wasn't fair for me to keep it to myself, and I agreed. And then she told me you were doing really well. That she thought…maybe it would be a good time. " She took a deep breath. "I wasn't going to tell you…any of what I told you in a letter, or over the phone. But I also didn't want _that_ to be the first thing you heard from me in years, so that's why I sent the card. It was a selfish move on my part, I can admit that. But I had good intentions."

I shook my head back and forth, feeling a little dazed. I couldn't believe Rose had stuck up for me like that. I also couldn't believe I owed her for Bella coming back into my life, in whatever capacity.

No wonder she'd looked at Leah like she had two heads.

"I guess I'm going to have to buy _her_ some gold earrings too," I said, my voice flat. "Em's women are costing me a fortune."

Bella giggled loudly. That high, happy sound I loved. I laughed, too, glad she'd understood I was joking around. I really did owe Rose, though.

Caught up in the moment, the next words out of my mouth weren't planned but they were true. "I'm glad you called."

"Maybe I'll do it again sometime."

"Maybe I'll do it first," I responded, my voice soft as I swallowed around the lump in my throat.

I swear it took her three years to respond.

"I'd like that," she whispered, sending my heart off on a fresh four hundred meter dash.

I missed her so much. I missed her touch, her smile. Her laugh. Her kisses. Her legs wrapped around me. But mostly I missed _her_.

"I miss you," I said.

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. But they were true.

My eyes burned, and I blinked against the sudden pain—the _heat_—as I waited for her to say something. To save me from the edge of the cliff I'd just perched myself on.

And then she did.

Her words grabbed me by the shirt, hauling me back. Saving me from falling into a bottomless river of despair.

"I miss you, too."

* * *

**I'd like to apologize to any of my readers who might be Pittsburgh fans. I promise, no fans were injured in the writing of that chapter. ;)**

**Thank you to everyone who's been reading. I know updates have been shitty the last few weeks, but I'm glad you've stuck with me.**


	30. Chapter 30

8/20/2012: **Word Prompt**: Bell / **Dialogue Flex**: "Have you thought this through?" she asked.

* * *

Friendship was a good start for Bella and me. After that first phone call, just like the first card she'd sent, we'd been talking on the phone every couple of days. Our conversations weren't heavy. We were taking time, starting slow. Getting to know each other again. Piece by piece.

I was trying to explain this to Carlisle, but as usual, he had decided before our conversation even began that he was going to take on his famous devil's advocate role. I hated when he did that.

"Are you sure this is the best choice for you?" he asked.

We were on his living room couch, some sports game played in the background, though neither of us was focused on it. The room smelled strongly of Breaking Dawn's newest residents' perfume and the dinner Esme was cooking. I wrinkled my nose at him and took a sip of my coffee. He was questioning me on my new, burgeoning friendship with Bella. Curious whether I thought it was a good idea to get myself wrapped up in her again.

It was a conversation I'd had with Leah before, more than once if I were totally honest. She constantly questioned my decisions—especially when it came to Bella—because she wanted to hear the conviction in my voice when I explained my reasons for them.

"We're just friends, Carlisle. I don't see the harm," I explained.

He pulled his leg across his lap, holding his calf in his hands as he regarded me carefully. "I can see why you wouldn't see any harm in your friendship. But some would say it's completely unhealthy for you to continue holding on to this…attachment you've got to her. Some would say perhaps you need to move on, date other people and forget about her." He released his leg and spread his hands out in front of him, shrugging.

My nostrils flared. "Whoever those _someone's_ are obviously don't know me, then." I set down my cup and crossed my arms over my chest. I understood the risks, and I understood the subtle point Carlisle was trying to make. It was still the same one Leah had tried to make. Yes, some might say my attachment to Bella was unhealthy. Those same people might probably tell me to find someone else. Leah, even. We _were _close. And there was no doubt that she had stepped in to fill the role Bella once held as my best friend.

But the spot didn't _belong _to her.

And it never would.

Of that, I was sure.

Because what those people who thought I should be with someone else refused to see is that I'd _tried_ being with other women. And my heart had never allowed anyone else in; because it never believed what I had with Bella was over. So _no_, I couldn't be with someone else while the love I had for Bella continued to consume every piece of me.

There simply wasn't enough room.

And until I knew for sure that my chances were nil at getting her to offer me the gift of her trust again, I was going to soak up every opportunity, ever part of Bella, she gave me. Unhealthy or not.

"Just promise me if it gets too hard, you'll come to me," Carlisle said, breaking the quiet that'd fallen between us.

I nodded tightly, my gaze mellow. "You know I will."

.

.

.

A week before Thanksgiving, my doorbell rang. I opened it to find a man in a brown uniform holding a box in his hands. "Sir." He tipped his head. "I've got a package for a…Mr. Edward Masen."

"That's me," I replied, signing where he asked me to sign and then accepting the box he handed over.

With the door closed, I held it in my hands. It was from Bella. It obviously wasn't the first contact we'd had since I returned to New Hampshire. But it still sent a thrill through me seeing her handwriting across the top.

When I got it open, I couldn't help the full belly laughter that fell from my mouth. Immediately, I grabbed my cell phone and scrolled through my contacts, choosing Bella's name. She picked up on the third ring. "Edward?"

"Are you trying to make me fat?" I asked, not-quite-real anger in my tone. "Because I have to tell you, I've already gained twenty pounds since I moved here, and I'm not buying another new wardrobe just because you insist on sending me boxes full of goodies."

She laughed loudly. "You said you liked them!"

With a smile, I leaned back against the stove in the kitchen. "I do, but now I'll spend the next two weeks devouring this stash and then Leah will kick my ass in the gym when I can't keep up."

"I'll write you a note. '_Dear Leah, Please excuse Edward from his ass kickings for the next few weeks. It's not his fault. Oreo's are dangerous. Sincerely, Bella_'…is that better?"

I was full on grinning now as I stared over at the open box, overstuffed with different flavors of Oreo cookie packages. "That's a start," I laughed. "Now I'll just have to think of retaliation."

"Well, just to let you in on a secret, I happen to be a complete sucker for anything dark chocolate. Do your worst." Her voice lowered, all gravelly and sexy.

It sent a thrill through me. I pushed away from the stove. "How has the rest of your week been?" I asked, turning to the fridge and pulling it open. I grabbed a bottle of water and wandered toward the living room.

"Busy. Since we're closing in on Thanksgiving I've been preparing for conferences with my students' parents. It's been brutal," she sighed.

"You like it though, right? Teaching?"

"I do. Very much. I've made great friends, and I love meeting new students. Discovering which ones are there to learn, and which ones aren't. There's a satisfaction I never knew was possible in turning those kids who didn't care about learning into those hungriest for knowledge by the end of the semester. It's only been two years, but my past students still come to see me quite a bit. They like that I'm younger. I think they find it easier to identify with me than the older, more seasoned teachers. And in turn, I like hearing about their new classes. The new things they're learning without me."

"That's great, Bella." I rested back against the corner of my couch. "I'm glad you found your path. I know…at one time, you weren't sure what you wanted to do with your degree."

"I always knew, there were just times when I wasn't sure if I could do it." Her voice was casual. "Now I know I could have done it all along."

"I like that." I couldn't stop smiling.

"Like what?"

"I like that you know what you want," I replied, my voice low.

"Oh stop it, you shameless flirt!" she responded, snickering.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

She growled, all cute and adorable. "Enough of that. Tell me how the renovation project is coming along."

My father and one of his longtime contractor friends had partnered up to renovate one of San Francisco's famous Painted Ladies. And while there wasn't much design going on outside, we were completely redoing the inside. With our design expertise, and dad's friend Garrett's contracting knowledge, we were the perfect team. They wanted to leave the outer shell in its original state of early nineteen hundred Victorian beauty, and overhaul the inside complete with new-age technology and room design. I had been my dad's first choice to head up the project. It was my first single-home renovation. In the past, I was always involved with designing larger office buildings and hospitals. I was having much more fun with it than I ever thought possible.

"It's different, challenging, but I know the finished product will be more than worth it. Dad says it could get all of us on the front page of some magazines. Did I tell you Esme even volunteered to consult with me on some interior designs?"

"No, that's amazing. I can't wait to see the finished product!"

"Me too."

"Will you sign your face for me, when you're all famous and fancy pants on the cover of magazines?"

"Of course." _Anything for you._

Suddenly, I heard shuffling and then Bella's voice came back on the line. "Can you hold on for a second? I have another call."

"Sure."

While I waited for Bella to come back, I stood up and walked back to the kitchen. Those stupid Oreo's were calling my name. I held the phone between my ear and shoulder while I tore into one of the packages. I tossed one into my mouth and hummed in enjoyment. Double Stuf.

My mouth was still full of cookie when Bella clicked back over. "Hey, I'm back. Sorry about that."

Her voice sounded different. Almost grim. Like whoever she'd been speaking to while I was on hold had called with bad news. "Everything okay?" I asked, trying to sound casual, even with my mouth full.

"Are you eating cookies?" she accused. I chewed once, slowly…and I thought, quietly. She heard it. "You are!"

I covered my mouth with my free hand as I laughed, trying not to spew black crumbs all over my kitchen. "It's your fault!" I swallowed everything in my mouth and caught my breath. "You didn't answer my question," I reminded her.

She blew out a big breath. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"

It was the question we asked the other when we were pretty sure something that was about to come up would be about our past. I could choose to say no, and I always gave her the same choice. I hadn't said no yet.

Neither had she.

"If you want to tell me."

"It was Peter."

"Okay," I trailed off, questioning.

"Peter is the man in the picture. The one you saw."

I backed up one step, two. My back hit the wall. My lungs seized as I slid to the floor, legs stretched out in front of me. I hadn't expected her to still be in contact with _him_. I closed my eyes, seeing the sky on top of me, remembering that night. I felt her grabby fingers and my burning, pulsing blood.

I breathed out slow through my nose. "And?" I asked, unsure if I had a right to, but desperate for her answer.

"We dated," she offered softly. "I ended it, and he still isn't happy about that."

I hated knowing that she'd been with someone else, but my shoulders relaxed with the knowledge that she'd chosen not to be with him. But when had _that _happened? "How long ago?"

"Before I sent the card. A few months."

"Did he make you happy?" My heart felt like it had that night, when I'd seen the picture. Here I was in yet another kitchen, imagining I could see the pieces of it all around me.

"Yes, for a while," Bella whispered. "But do you want to know the truth?" I made a sound that I hoped equated to the word yes, because of course I wanted the truth.

She paused before speaking again.

"He's not you."

There was no waiver in her voice. It was an honest, bold statement. She was telling me she'd gone out, tried to be with someone else…and it hadn't worked. Though I hated to think of her as unhappy, I also secretly was glad for the knowledge that she hadn't been able to be with anyone else either.

"Can I be honest, too?" If we were on the subject of our past relationships, it was time to come clean about my own…encounters.

"Always."

"They weren't you either." I stared off, not seeing anything. Unfamiliar faces flashed behind my eyes. Those women—those girls—who were now buried beneath a fog of cloudy memories. The only face that had ever been clear was Bella's. "Not once."

She was quiet and then I heard her sniffle.

"Please don't cry," I begged. "We don't have to talk about this—"

She cut me off. "No, I want to hear it. I need to. Please."

I rolled my neck in a circle, drawing my knees into my chest. And then I began…

"After you left…I was a mess, Bella. I wanted to stop wanting you. I wanted to find someone who would _make_ me stop wanting you. Who could make me _feel _again." My own tears were close to falling. "I just wanted it to stop hurting." My free hand flew to my chest, pressing against the pain that had begun the day she walked out, the one that had steadily grown stronger, deeper.

"I hate that I did that to you," she said.

"Don't," I argued. "Don't blame yourself for my stupidity. It's not fair to either of us. I've accepted my mistakes. I've accepted the things I did wrong. I know I should have never let you walk out the door."

"And I know I never should have let it get that far."

"But we did, and you know what?"

"What?"

"Here we are."

"Yes." She sniffled again, a small laugh slipping out. It rolled over my skin, setting the burn at ease like water across a heated flame. "Here we are."

Those three words. Simple as they were…said everything.

We had been through all of that. That pain and hurt and anger and confusion, only to come back together again. To reinforce what was once our shaky, unstable foundation and start building again on something stronger. We were a design I'd never expected. The renovated version of our younger selves, becoming something that still had history, but was reinforced by the mistakes of our past and made all the better because of them.

I couldn't wait to see the finished product.

* * *

**I hope those of you who've questioned are beginning to see the light at the end of this tunnel. The foundation has been in the works, and now it's all coming together. I don't know how many chapters are left, but I'm sticking to my plans and trying to keep it real. Thank you for reading.**


	31. Chapter 31

8/21/2012: **Word Prompt**: Slice

* * *

I stared out the kitchen window, sipping from yet another bottle of water. My third in as many hours. It was too hot inside my house. Stuffy.

I felt like I couldn't _breathe_.

Reaching forward, I slid open the window in front of me, drawing in the fresh, crisp air. It was obvious the sun had taken the day off. Outside, the sky was a blur of gloom, all dark and sad and depressing. It seemed apropos, considering my mood.

I was having a bad day. I breathed in. Out. My shoulders lifted with the effort it took to force air into my lungs.

This kind of 'bad' day had become so few and far between lately that I'd forgotten just how terrible they could actually be. When one hit, it hit _hard_.

I wasn't handling it very well. At all.

Turning away from the window, my eyes landed on the door. For what felt like the millionth time. Then the handle. The tiny lock. All it would take—

_No_.

I shifted on my feet, but stayed still. I wasn't leaving my house. I _wasn't_. My hands curled around the edge of the counter and my eyes dropped to the floor, where light gray ceramic stared up at me. I was glad it wasn't reflective. I didn't want to see how bad I knew I looked.

I glanced at the clock instead. Again. _Still too early. _I sighed.

Back in the early days, when I was first working on getting sober, I always knew when days like this were building. They all started the same way. With that thirst. That unquenchable, unending _thirst_. And that creeping, crawling sensation that hummed just under my skin, creating an anxiety that swirled low in my stomach.

I could feel it now. Swirling and climbing; _clawing _at me.

All because of one stupid dream…

The clawing, nagging sensation was discomfort at its worst. Like a bad sleeping position you can't seem to find your way out of, no matter how many times you toss and turn and fluff. There were no magic thoughts or spots or words that would take it away. I just had to stay strong. Push through. Get my guard back up and remember what was important.

For over two years I'd been doing just that. I didn't have any other choice. After I'd left Breaking Dawn, it seemed inevitable—considering the odds—that I would fail at sobriety at least once. Ninety percent of us do. And that fact was always at the edge of my mind. It was what helped keep me strong enough to do what was right. To push through like I knew I had to in order to stay on the straight and narrow.

It worked.

I'd been successful so many times. Through countless therapy sessions and workouts. Through talking to, and then seeing Bella again for the first time. Through letting her hear my story…and listening to hers in return. I'd stayed strong through all of that; stayed sober. I'd pushed through. Problem was…it had never been _this_ bad before.

I could still taste the dream-alcohol on my tongue. I could still feel it burning in my veins. I wanted it so badly. _God_, did I want it. And I knew why. It was because things had been going so well over the last few months. Too well, maybe. So well that I'd let my guard down. My defenses had weakened against what lived inside of me, and it…this _thing _was using that to its advantage, reminding me how much of a hold it still had while I had no conscious ability to fight it off.

In my sleep.

The dream was terrible. Depraved. Women and drugs and drinking and _him_. Peter. His face was there. Laughing, smiling…touching her. Encouraging me. Telling me I would never have what he'd taken away.

Which I _knew _wasn't true.

Bella and I had been growing closer, talking on the phone almost daily, and texting when we couldn't. She'd even added me as her friend on Facebook. It was casually intense. We were friends, but we both understood there could be more, and that someday there just might be. We were taking it slow though, building the trust we once had back, brick by brick.

I felt good about it. I felt really good about it.

Somewhere inside my head, though…there were fears that wanted to be known. And they were making that pretty damn clear. I'd woken up sweaty and angry, and today…it had just been _too much_.

Now here I was facing the fists of my addiction as it swung right for my face. My muscles were tired, my eyes blurry. I was teetering, dangling on the edge of something.

Except I knew it wasn't a cliff I faced falling off of this time…it was a wagon.

There was only one voice I wanted to save me.

One _person_.

Bella.

I glanced at the clock again. Eleven my time was eight hers. I couldn't wait any longer.

Reaching for my phone, I pulled her name up and pressed down before I lifted it to my ear. My fingers tap-tap-tapped on the countertop as I waited for her to answer.

She picked up almost instantly, her breath short and voice sleepy-soft. "Edward." It was a sigh; a happy one. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it's impolite to call someone so early on a Saturday morning?"

"She _did _tell me that once or twice, but I was never very good at following her rules." I walked to the living room and sat down, wedging myself into the corner of the couch where it was most comfortable. "Plus I just wanted to hear your voice."

"We just talked last night," she replied, laughing.

"So?"

"You're incorrigible."

"I am, I admit it." I laughed, too. "Did I really wake you up?"

"No, you're good. Alice woke me up," she huffed. "I think she's realized by now that I'm ignoring her on purpose."

"Why are you ignoring her now?" I asked.

"Now she's decided she wants to paint the babies' room the most obnoxious orange color, and even though I haven't _said_ anything, she knows I don't like it." Alice and Jasper had announced on Thanksgiving that they were pregnant. With twins. According to what Bella had told me over the last few weeks, Alice had promptly turned into _Momzilla_. She was driving Bella nuts with every tiny detail. "She keeps trying to change my mind, and Jasper's still no help. He's just letting her do whatever she wants. Pushover!"

"He loves her," I offered in Jasper's defense. God knows I probably would have done the same if Bella had insisted on painting _our _kids' nursery some crazy color, or if she'd wholeheartedly tried to convince me she wanted to name it Gertrude if we had a girl.

It was what husbands did.

"Well, I love her too but there's got to be a line _somewhere_." Her words were muffled like she had something in her mouth. With a laugh, I asked her what she was eating.

"It's an evil slice of pizza that's been taunting me since I wrapped it up the other night. At least I waited until now!"

I was still laughing. "The important question is…what _kind _of pizza?"

"Guess." She was grinning, I knew it.

"Anchovy?"

She made a disgusted sound. "Gross."

"I'm betting there's some kind of vegetable on it." I closed my eyes, tipping my head back on the arm of the couch. When we were kids, her mom was always pushing the veggies. She used to make us pizza's covered in fresh…everything. Bella never could get behind anything else.

"Yup," she said around another bite. My stomach growled just thinking about pizza. I hadn't eaten much. I did have to fucking piss again from all the water, though. "Green peppers and olives."

"Black olives or green ones?" I knew the answer, but I liked imagining the cute wrinkle that would show up on her nose when I mentioned green olives. She hated them.

She scoffed. "Black. Come on."

"That's my girl."

"Damn right," she replied without hesitation, and I didn't even have time to enjoy it before she spoke again, "Now, enough about my pizza. Tell me what's wrong." Blunt and forward. It was something I still hadn't gotten used to, because while Bella might still have been the girl who hated green olives, she definitely wasn't one who had any tolerance for bullshit.

"Truth?" I asked, more for myself than for her. And she knew it, too.

"Edward," she warned.

"I know," I sighed, sitting forward to flip through a magazine on the coffee table. "I'm just…having a rough day."

"So tell me about it," she insisted.

"Are you su—"

"_Edward_." At my continued silence, she went on, "You don't have to be afraid, you know? I'm not going to run off because something you say doesn't sit well with me."

"I know that." But _did _I know that? Maybe that was my whole problem. I still thought she'd change her mind about me again. At least some part of me did, anyway.

"Do you?"

"I don't know."

"I'll just enjoy my pizza while I wait for you to get it, then."

Smiling a little at her persistence, I closed my eyes and rested back against the couch, lifting my socked feet to the edge of the coffee table. "And you say I'm incorrigible…" I took a deep breath. "This sounds ridiculous, but I had this dream and now I just…can't get comfortable."

"Like how?" she asked, sounding genuinely curious.

I struggled with how exactly to explain the feeling to her. "My skin just kind of burns." I ran my fingers over my forearm, scratching the ache that still rested there. "I'm shaky and anxious and _thirsty_."

"I'm guessing that means you're not thirsty for water."

Though I hated letting her hear the thoughts that had been running through my head since I climbed out of bed, I knew she _needed_to hear them. She needed to know this part of me. If I continued to keep it hidden, I'd never know how true her words were about whether or not she was going to take off.

"No, definitely not water. All morning I've been arguing with myself over getting into my car because no matter how much of everything else I put down my throat, the thirst…won't go away." I paused for a second to get myself together. I knew I should have never let myself get so far. I should have called Leah or Carlisle as soon as I woke up. Or I should have gotten in my car and gone to a fucking meeting, but I was scared I'd never make it there. "There's a bar two blocks from here. Did I ever tell you that?"

"No," Bella responded quietly.

"How pathetic is it that I keep thinking about the fastest way to get there?"

"That's not pathetic," she said, sounding sincere.

I shook my head at myself. "It really is."

"It's not," she insisted. "You didn't go, did you? No. You're strong, Edward. Stronger than a lot of people."

"Strong people don't lose their shit over one stupid dream."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

I picked at the material of my jeans. "Not really."

"Why not?"

_Because it was about you._

"Was I in it?" she asked, after her previous question had gone unanswered, like she knew.

Her question hung there for a moment before I finally gathered the courage to answer. "Somewhat."

Bella laughed a little, sounding nervous now. "What does _that _mean?"

"I don't suppose you're going to let me get away with pleading the fifth on this one, are you?"

"What do you think?" she sassed.

I knew there was no way she'd let me slide.

So I told her.

I told her all of it.

And when I was done, I could tell she was upset. But so was I.

"I made it clear it's over between me and Peter, didn't I?" she asked.

"Yes, but—"

She huffed. "No buts. It's _over_, Edward."

"It was over between us once, too."

"Yes, it was," she whispered, broken. My heart twisted.

I tugged at my hair. "I hope you can see why what you said about him doesn't give me much to go on, then."

"As long as you're there and I'm here there's not much I can do to prove that what I'm telling you is the truth." Now she was fired up.

"No, there isn't."

"Then come home, Edward," she said. "Come back to Seattle."

* * *

**Thank you.**


	32. Chapter 32

8/22/2012: **Word Prompts**: Whir, blur, slur

* * *

I'd just placed the last few things I would need inside my suitcase when I heard Leah's voice behind me. She was early. "I can't believe you're leaving me."

With a sigh, I rolled my eyes and picked up the heavy bag to set it down on the floor. And then I chose to ignore her comment. We'd discussed it far too many times already. "You're early. Good thing I wasn't naked or anything."

"Don't try to gross me out with thoughts of you naked."

My eyes snapped to hers, narrowed. She was smirking. _Bitch. _I motioned to myself, giving her the same look right back. "You couldn't handle all of this anyway."

"Do you want to walk to the airport today, Pretty?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, that one mean eyebrow raised.

"You wouldn't do that to me." I froze as the words left my mouth, considering what I'd said for a moment. I laughed to myself. "Okay, you probably would."

Clearly unimpressed with me—or anything I had to say—Leah grabbed my carry-on from the bed and turned to leave. Dragging my suitcase along behind, I followed her out into the driveway. The snow had finally melted and the sun was actually shining, even though the temperature was below freezing. I was glad she'd left the car running. I just hoped she had the heat cranked.

"Stop pouting, Lee. Sam will be here in a few days," I offered, shrugging as I lifted my bags into the trunk. She just kept on ignoring me as she climbed inside the car. I joined her a moment later.

"I'll be back in two weeks," I told her, patience thin.

Leah huffed. "Yeah, but for how long?" she asked, sighing as she backed out of the driveway and headed in the direction of the highway.

I scrubbed my hands over my face. "Who knows at this point? I told you I haven't made a decision yet."

"Mmm. And Bella's still okay with that?"

"She's fine about it. She always has been. She understands my reservations about moving back to Seattle. She's never pushed me into doing what _she_ wants; she's just telling me what she'd _like _to happen, which is for me to come home."

That was the truth, too. Bella had been more than understanding about my choice. The night we were on the phone and she'd said those words to me, asking me to come home, I hadn't known how to respond. Especially not after the day I'd had. I was too emotionally wound up to think clearly and I knew if I made any decisions that night they would have been purely rash. And I was finished making careless decisions about my life. Or hers.

"What do _you _want?" Leah asked, bringing my attention back to her.

_I want Bella. _"I always planned to go back to Washington someday."

She scoffed. "That's not really an answer, Pretty."

I stared out the window, watching the sea of cars that blurred around us and gathered the words I wanted to say.

"What I want most," I admitted, revealing the thoughts in my mind. "Is to be with Bella. But I can't sacrifice myself to do that, _or _her. I'm not going to go home and give her some fairytale dream only to ruin it all—for both of us—if I fuck up. I want to be smart about this. I want to be an adult whose choices aren't driven purely by selfishness."

I turned back to Leah, catching one of those rare smiles she never liked showing. I smiled too.

"I'm so proud of you, Edward," she said.

And yeah, maybe I was a little proud of me too.

.

.

.

My flight to Washington this time was different. I wasn't feeling quite as anxious as when I'd traveled in October. Just…excited. I was actually looking forward to getting there, seeing my family, my friends. Seeing my adorable little niece. And of course, the girl I loved.

Bella.

I'd told my parents to stay in Forks, opting instead to grab a rental and make the trip by myself. And by the time I'd made it into town, my body was tired, but everything else was wide awake. Though it was well after midnight for me, I knew there'd be no way I'd be falling asleep quickly.

Especially not with the knowledge that Bella was less than ten minutes away…

After I'd grabbed my bag from the luggage carousel back in Seattle, I was waiting in line for my turn at the rental counter when my phone alerted me to a text. Heart racing, fists clenched and eagerness flooding through me, I opened it. I hadn't stopped smiling since.

_By my calculations, you should be here. Are you here? Please tell me you're here… -B_

_I'm here_, was all my response said. And then I added a second message, because how could I not?

_I can't wait to see you. –E_

I hadn't realized how true that statement was until the rental I'd been driving wasn't in my parent's driveway, it was in Alice's. The headlights washed across faded-white, highlighting an open window on the second floor, curtains billowing in cold wind. Bella's old window; the one that would soon belong to the twins in Alice's belly. The one painted a bright, obnoxious orange.

And I didn't have to wait long to know whether it was too late. If I'd woken her. Because the door was opening and then there she was. Hair piled on her head, a pair of glasses low on her nose and the most heart-stoppingly-beautiful smile on her gorgeous lips.

The engine was still running when her feet began to move toward me. Desperate, I fumbled with the keys in the ignition, searching it out with hands shaking for an entirely different reason than I'd become accustomed to in the last few years.

Anticipation. Raw, open-wide and absolute _anticipation_.

I couldn't get out of the car fast enough. I couldn't get to her fast enough.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, a little breathless. There was no anger in her voice; no disappointment that I'd showed up unexpected and without invitation. There was only lightness and curiosity.

One of my cheeks lifted into an even higher smile. "I meant what I said." I shrugged, closing the door of the rental car and stepping toward her. "I couldn't wait."

She was _still_ smiling when my hand lifted, touched her cheek. My eyes closed. My heart pounded. It had been _so fucking long_.

"Can I—" I whispered, stepping closer still. "Can I hug you?"

Bella didn't answer with words. She answered with her body molding itself to mine, sudden and sharp she was against me. With her arms around my waist and her fists clenched into the back of my jacket. In her warm breath pushing through my shirt as she buried her face against my chest. In the shape of her body pressed against mine and all its rightness.

My own arms wrapped around her, my face falling to the top of her hair as I inhaled and touched and breathed like I hadn't breathed in so, so long. My hands roamed, touching high on her back and brushing low, seeking skin beneath the back of her shirt. Fingers pressed to the small of her back, to the muscle and bone and blood surging below. Like I was drawing her life back into my bones. Like the piece of her soul I'd lost was finally coming back, its path beginning at the very tips of my fingers and flooding into every part of me.

That's when I knew. When I knew my reservations—my fears—about it being too soon, were just that. Fears.

Because there was no way, now that I had her back in my arms, I'd be able to let go again. I knew I'd come back to her. A million times I'd come back. A hundred thousand million trillion times infinity I would come back.

She was my home.

She always had been.

She always would be.

My heart would always, always lead me to wherever its other half lived. And that was in Washington.

Right there in Alice's driveway.

* * *

**Thank you for reading.**


	33. Chapter 33

8/23/2012: **Word Prompt**: Circumstance

* * *

The night I'd arrived, it'd been Alice to find us still locked in our quiet embrace, standing in her driveway. An entirely different and much less angsty scene than the last time we'd all been in the exact same place years before. That night, though there were tears and the ghost of our remembered pain, there were no handcuffs.

There was only happiness.

"You two idiots are going to freeze out here," Alice had yelled from the porch, small arms wrapped around her rapidly growing stomach. "Come inside before you catch your death of a cold."

I waved to Alice as Bella turned, looking at her sister with narrowed eyes. She was clearly frustrated with the unwanted interruption. "You were a pest when we were younger, and you're still a pest now," she yelled right back.

"Fine!" Alice shouted, huffing as she walked back into the house and slammed the door behind her. Things hadn't changed much since we were kids. Those two could fight like cats and dogs one second and then be huddled together in a corner laughing the next. I chuckled quietly, flexing my fingers into Bella's soft skin.

"She's right. I should get to my parents," I whispered, hating to say it but knowing it was true.

Bella frowned up at me. "But you just got here."

I smiled, lifting one hand to touch her cheek, encouraging a smile. "What are you doing the day after Christmas?"

"That depends on if you're offering to get me out of shopping with that one." She jerked her thumb toward the house.

I laughed again, shrugging my shoulders. "I'm offering."

"Oh? And what did you have in mind?"

"I was sort of hoping you'd take a ride with me."

"A ride, huh?"

I nodded, bursting to tell her exactly what being back in her arms had done for me. The decision I'd made. "To Seattle," I explained.

"Why exactly are we riding to Seattle?" Bella asked, stepping into me again. Her hands rested on my chest, fingers drawing patterns across my shirt.

My heart felt like it was trying to rip out of my skin just to touch her. "I was thinking maybe you could help me look for an apartment."

Her eyes snapped to mine, wide and disbelieving. It only took a few seconds before she was fighting a smile she had no chance of winning against. "Really?"

"Really."

The smile had won. She was so beautiful. "You're coming home?"

I leaned into her, eyes intent as my hands moved back to her waist. Hers slid up and around my neck. "Home is where _you _are, Bella. It always has been. I may have forgotten that for a while, I know that. But I'll never forget it again. I promise; I'll never forget it again."

Brown eyes stared up at me, blinking slowly. Her hands tightened around my neck, pulling me closer until her lips were just a breath away. "I won't let you forget this time," she vowed in return, and then she kissed me. Soft. Quick. Just her lips against mine, and when she pulled back, grinning, my cheeks had lifted too.

They stayed that way for hours.

.

.

.

Christmas morning, I was up far earlier than I would have liked, though I wasn't sure if it was the three-hour time difference, or my excitement over the kiss the night before that had woken me. I decided I might as well get my day started, and after a shower and some fresh clothes, I felt much more human. My phone buzzed as I was heading downstairs.

_Merry Christmas! I hope you're not too tired today. Can't wait to see you again. xoxo -B  
_  
Pausing before I went into the kitchen, I quickly typed out a response:

_Merry Christmas, beautiful. I can't wait either. xxxx -E_

I may have walked into the kitchen after that with a little extra spring in my step.

Dad was working at the table, and whatever Mom was cooking smelled amazing. I wished them both a Merry Christmas too, accepting mom's immediate hug. "Merry Christmas, my boy," she whispered, touching my cheek. She traced beneath one of my eyes. "You look tired. Why didn't you sleep in some more? You're on vacation."

I kissed her on the cheek. "The time difference has me all mixed up. I'll probably nap later after you feed me lots of whatever that incredible smell is that's coming from the bottom oven over there." I rubbed my stomach.

Mom snorted. "Well, while you're up, why don't you make yourself useful and bake some cookies with me?"

"I'm at your service," I said, walking over to shake dad's hand before we got started. I gave him a hug as well. They'd both been in bed by the time I'd made it to the house the night before, so this was our first chance to see each other.

"Safe flight?" Dad asked, to which I nodded.

"It wasn't bad. I always forget how long the drive is from Sea-Tac, though."

Dad squeezed my arm. "Yeah, it sucks, doesn't it?" He laughed.

"Stop hogging our son, I have manual labor for him to do, Ed," Mom interjected, rushing over to us and throwing an apron strap over my head. She tugged on my hand. "You come with me. This old fart can keep himself entertained."

I laughed and followed behind her, pretending _not_ to notice that the apron she'd given me had the words: _My muffins are fluffier than yours _in big, pink letters across the front. I plucked at the material, making a face. "Don't you have anything…manlier, Ma?"

"Hush." She shoved a bag of flour into my hands. "Open this."

With a sigh, I complied and got to work.

The three of us spent the rest of Christmas morning in the kitchen. Mom had me rolling, mixing and eventually sprinkling cookies on every surface available. I had to admit, I was having fun. It'd been far, far too long since I could remember spending a day doing something so _simple _without the idea of a drink even entering my mind.

It was _peaceful_.

Just after a lunch of roast-turkey sandwiches, Mom brought up the subject I'd been waiting for all day.

"So, tell me what's happening with you and Bella." Ever since Bella and I had reunited, Mom had been all for our new relationship. I liked that she was the only person _not_ questioning me on the choice to try again. "Are you planning to see her while you're here?"

I set my sandwich down, wiped my face on a napkin and looked up at her. "Uh," I mumbled, eyes moving from her to my dad and then back again. I felt a little guilty. "I sort of already saw her."

"You did?" I hadn't even had the chance to respond before her mom face was in full effect and she was smacking me in the arm. "Edward Anthony Masen! Tell me you did _not _go to that girl's house at such a late hour last night."

Rubbing the spot she'd smacked, I avoided her eyes. I was sure I looked as sheepish as I felt. So I focused on my sandwich instead. "Then I guess I'll keep my mouth shut," I mumbled some more. "And I guess I also won't tell you that she's coming to Seattle with me tomorrow to look at apartments."

Mom's coffee mug dropped to the table at the same time Dad's laptop lid slammed shut. When I looked up, both of their mouths were hanging wide open. I smiled at their reaction.

"You're coming home?" They echoed each other.

I grinned, looking between the two of them. "Yes. I think I am."

After that, Dad and I hopped on his laptop and began scouting apartments in Seattle. By the time I was ready for a nap, we'd found three solid leads and I'd programmed them into my phone to call during the drive to Seattle the next day. I didn't tell Dad the reason I was looking near Columbia City, but I'm pretty sure he had a good idea why.

Bella's condo was there.

.

.

.

Wednesday morning, even though the air was chilly, the sun was shining and the streets were dry. I didn't care what anyone thought, I was taking the good weather as a sign. It was going to be a good day.

I was going to make sure of it.

Bella was waiting for me on Alice's porch when I pulled into their driveway. She rushed down the steps the moment my tires hit her property, a smile on her face. I wondered if she saw me checking my hair in the rearview mirror, or wiping my sweaty palms across my jeans. I pushed the sleeve of my right arm up as she opened the door, and then all of my nerves faded as she climbed in. Her cheeks were pink. The tip of her nose, too. She had on a big, puffy coat, and a pink skullcap was pulled low around her ears.

And I wanted to kiss her so badly.

"Good morning," she said, looking over at me, still smiling a little shyly. It made me want to kiss her even more.

My hand refused to listen to my brains' insistence that I keep them to myself as I reached out and touched her cheek. "Good morning, beautiful."

She blushed at my words, busying herself with removing her big coat now that she was inside the warm car. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

"I'll remember that," I remarked, reversing out of the driveway and pointing us toward the 101.

Soon, we were on the highway headed south toward Seattle. And I'm not sure what I expected, but things were _easy_. They weren't stilted, or awkward, or haunted by memories of our past. Bella was asking questions left and right, interested in my work and my life in New Hampshire.

"Tell me about your _Lady _in San Francisco. How's she holding up?"

I snickered. "You make it sound so sordid when you phrase it like that, baby."

She wiggled her eyebrows. "I know. So tell me."

I shook my head, laughing. "My _Lady's _doing just fine. They just stripped her paint and the guys are working on reinforcing the foundation. One good thing about construction in California is that you rarely have to put anything on hold for the weather. With San Francisco especially, most you've got to worry about really is rain and fog. The contractor's expect the renovation to be complete by late spring, depending, of course, upon the circumstances of permits and things like that. I'll probably fly out there in a few months to check over everything with the plans I'm drawing and make sure everything's up to spec."

"We've never been to California. Are you excited? I bet that city is amazing, too. I see it on the food channel all the time."

"Sure, though it'll be a work trip so I probably won't get to see much of the city itself." A thought popped into my head, and then it popped out.

"Unless you want to come with me."

My words hung there for a moment. I peeked to my right. Bella's bottom lip was buried between her teeth as she looked down at her lap. It was the first taste of awkward we'd had all morning, and I wanted to roll down all of the windows and let it out immediately.

"I'm sorry," I rushed out. "That was a little forward."

"No." Bella looked up, taking my right hand in both of hers. She traced my knuckles, and then she was smiling. "I just…didn't expect that. At all." She pushed out a breath, lips plump and still curved. "You're so different from the man I remember, Edward. I'm not used to this. To you…being, well…_you_." She sighed. "It's nice."

After a moment, she lifted my fingers to her lips and giggled.

"What?" I asked.

"You just asked me to go to San Francisco with you."

I glanced at her, winking. "And don't think I didn't notice you haven't given me an answer."

Our playfulness came to an end as we finally rolled into Rainier Beach, one of the neighborhoods in Southeastern Seattle that I'd made an appointment with earlier that morning. I'd been lucky that all three prospects my dad and I had found were accepting appointments today.

The place was nice, though, I knew it wasn't going to be my choice when I noticed the liquor store on the opposite corner. I was doing good, but there was no sense in moving right into temptations doorstep. We still did the walk through, but the only apartment available was less than a thousand square feet and only one bedroom. I knew I would need at least two. I had to have an office.

After we'd walked through, we thanked the nice woman from the rental office and made our way back to the rental car. I felt a little discouraged, but kept a smile on my face. Bella, being familiar with the neighborhood, was pointing out her favorite places to eat and shop. She was also pretty good with finding parking.

Building number two was just as nice. In Columbia City's _Greenhouse Apartments_, the furnishings were modern and fresh. Very contemporary. As an architect, I admired the interior design and function, but once again the only available space was a one bedroom.

The last place I had lined up to visit were the _Forest Street Townhomes_. All colorful buildings and spacious insides. Everything was just as new and fresh as the previous place had been, and after looking through the two story unit, it felt too big. Too…everything. It just wasn't right.

Siobhan, the woman who was helping us out and showing off the townhome had stepped away, giving Bella and me a moment alone.

She joined me at the sliding glass door overlooking the back deck. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I said, looking down at her. I pulled a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I just really wanted to find something today."

She frowned a little, and I poked her cheek. "I could tell by your face that this wasn't it."

I laughed. "Could you?"

"Oh yeah." She nodded. "You get this…pissy look when you don't like something." She pointed at me and laughed, hard. "Kind of like that!"

I stalked toward her, advancing one step forward for each of hers back. Her eyes were wide, but her smile…her smile was inviting. Her body hit the door behind us and my hands rested above her shoulders on the glass, absorbing the chill that worked its way down my body. I didn't give a flying fuck if I was leaving fingerprints on this pristine place's parts. All that mattered was right in front of me. I lowered my face to Bella's, inhaling the scent of her sweetness. "I'll have to search some more. This could delay things…" I stared down at her wet, shiny lips and then licked my own. "Is that okay?"

She hummed, looking not at me—but at my lips, her eyes hooded and unfocused. Her words didn't answer my question, but that look in her eyes did. I took it as another sign and leaned forward to kiss her, taking my time with her lips. Not at all like the night before when it'd been too quick to savor. No, I kissed her slow, soft. I kissed her chin. The tip of her nose. Her jaw. That sweet spot where her shoulder and neck connected.

My kisses were full of desperation, and so were her hands that gripped me; held me to her. My breath came shorter and shorter as my mouth worked against hers, tongue twisting long and slow between her lips. She moaned and I moved closer, my hands sliding from the glass and down until I held her hips in my hands. She was breathing hard, heavy against my chest. Her hands had shifted into my hair, tugging and still, holding me close. I was dizzy. Lost.

A throat clearing broke us apart like two teenagers caught making out in the middle of church. I jumped back a little, wiping the back of my hand over my lips and trying not to look guilty. I casually adjusted myself in my pants and looked at Bella. Her hands were partially covering her pink cheeks, but I could see her grinning beneath parted fingers.

"Uh, sorry, ma'am. I don't think this is the place for me. We appreciate your help today," I said quickly as I grabbed Bella's hand and pulled her along after me.

By the time we'd made it back to the rental car, neither of us could hold in our laughter anymore. Bella tugged at my hand, trying to look angry. "I can't believe you got us caught," she accused.

"Me?" I advanced toward her again and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You were the one making all that noise."

She gasped and slapped at my chest. "Well, I was going to surprise you with something, but now I don't know if I should."

"Surprise me?" I asked, eager. Her eyebrows lifted.

"Give me your keys." She held out her hand. I arched an eyebrow, and she wiggled her fingers. "Give 'em."

Pulling the keys from my pocket, I handed them over. "Tell me I won't regret this."

"You won't regret this." She grinned, skipping around me toward the drivers' side door. "At least, I'm pretty sure you won't."

"This does not make me feel better, Bella."

"Just get in the car."

"Fine." I grinned as I climbed inside and buckled my seatbelt, still feeling the high of that fucking kiss.

I shifted in my seat as I watched Bella completely screw up my perfect positioning of the drivers' seat, mirrors and steering wheel.

"Will you tell me where we're going now?" I asked, side-eying her a little.

"Nope, but you can see it." She pointed forward. "Look."

I hunched and squinted into the sky, looking up at the sign she'd pointed to. I'd have recognized the name anywhere. And even if I hadn't, the address…I'd have known that address anywhere.

_Columbia City Condos.  
_  
"This is your building," I said, dumbfounded. "Why are we at your building?"

"Because the unit upstairs from mine just went on the market. And I was hoping you might want to make it your building, too."

* * *

**I have no excuse for how long this took. I'll say that I had everything in my head, it just didn't want to come out. I promise not to let these two go so long again before you hear from them. Big things are coming. Thank you all for reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts.  
**


	34. Chapter 34

8/24/2012: **Word Prompt: **Glass

* * *

_"This is your building," I said, dumbfounded. "Why are we at your building?"_

_"Because the unit upstairs from mine just went on the market. And I was hoping you might want to make it your building, too."_

.

The thing about addicts is, underneath everything, we're selfish people. We want what we want when we want it, and that's just the way it works. At the heart of any addiction is a person who doesn't care about others. A person who doesn't care about ramifications, consequences, or even themselves. A person who lies and hurts and sometimes even steals. Everything and everyone else be damned.

Addicts just…_do_.

All so we can get what we need.

The drug.

The drink.

The _poison_.

And when you come back from that; when you really, _truly _come back from it…you've learned ways to not be selfish. You've learned ways to atone for the bad things you've done. You've done what you could to right all the wrongs you may have committed.

Then you live in constant fear of committing new ones.

Two years before, that was me. I was selfish. Self-absorbed. I lied. I hurt. I poisoned. Myself, and everyone around me.

And I never wanted to do it again.

Which was why—as Bella's words finally registered—instead of feeling excited or grateful for what she'd said…I felt sick.

Scared.

Terrified, really.

Blinking, I looked away, not wanting to see the look my silence put on her face. I stared out the window, trying to come up with some kind of response that wouldn't show her how unsettled I felt. God knew I couldn't have begun to explain _why _I felt the way I did; except to say that her offer was like a slap of reality right to the face.

She'd said it all before…but at that moment, I _knew_.

She really, _truly _wanted me in Seattle.

She wanted me _upstairs_.

Holy shit. She wanted me up-fucking-stairs.

My heart wanted me to forget all the reservations I had and tell her yes. But my mind had a different idea. I could almost hear Leah's voice screaming the word 'no' over and over again. She'd definitely think it was a bad idea. She'd say it wasn't smart. She'd tell me I had worked too hard to screw up everything now with a decision I hadn't fully thought through.

And I knew she was right.

But… she wanted me _upstairs_.

Still in the drivers' seat, Bella's hands knitted together, twisting and turning. A nervous, uncomfortable gesture. "I understand if you don't want to," she rushed out, words clipped. "I won't be angry with you. I just thought—"

And I couldn't let her think I didn't want it. Want _her_. "No," I interrupted, finally turning away from the window. "It's not that I don't want to. It's that…" I paused, considering. "This just got a whole lot more real." My words fell on a heavy breath, filling the space between us.

Suddenly, Bella's lips turned quickly from a frown, shifting upwards into a smile. And then she giggled, not even trying to hide the fact that she was laughing _at me_. "Really? What did you _expect _looking for a place to live in Seattle to entail, Edward?"

Her tone was playful, teasing. But still I huffed, covering my face with my hands, feeling embarrassed by my own reaction. By my own still lingering inability to handle certain things. "You're right," I breathed. "I'm being ridiculous, aren't I?"

"No," she said, peeling my fingers away and staring into my eyes. "Be honest with me right now. Do you _not _want to come back here? Is that it? Are you not ready?"

_Of course I'm ready_, I thought. _I've spent long enough without you._

But I couldn't just think it. I had to _say _it. Leaning toward her, I lifted the hand she wasn't holding to her cheek. "Of course I want to come back here." The sun shining through the window made all of the reds and golds stand out in her hair. What I wouldn't have given to be able to forget everything in my head and just kiss her again. Kiss her for the rest of my life. "I want to be with you," I vowed. "However you'll have me. It's just..."

Her brown eyes moved between mine, patient as I tried to gather my thoughts. My eyes closed and I blew out a breath, all the thoughts in my head coming with it.

"I want to do this _right_. I want to date you. I want you to be my girlfriend and all that it entails, and I'm afraid that if we move too quick, one, I won't be able to handle it. And two, we'll erase everything the two of us have done over the last three years to become individuals and fall back into something that was once comfortable and safe. And I can't do comfortable and safe anymore. I have to be…diligent. My life is…different now." My eyes closed as my free hand curled into a fist and rested against my chest. "_I'm _different now. I have to stick to a schedule, and the first couple of months are going to be really difficult, and I don't know how any of this is supposed to work." I tugged at my hair, eyes still screwed shut as I admitted everything. "And I'm afraid it won't work because I'll fuck it up again. I hurt you once without meaning to, and I never, ever want to do it again. Ever."

My chest rose and fell with each labored breath I managed. I waited as the silence gathered, building until I thought I might have done exactly what I didn't want. That I'd hurt her somehow.

"Open your eyes," Bella whispered, and I did. Slowly. To my surprise, she was smiling softly, her eyes sparkling with emotion. "I'm different too, you know. My life is different. My friends…my job. Everything about us is different except for the fact that we're _us_. I understand that." She reached for my hand, still holding tightly to my hair. When she spoke again, her voice was full of heart. "I want to date you, too, you know? And I want more than anything to get to know you again—_not_ over the phone." She giggled. "And…I want to _be _your girlfriend. But we have time. I'm not pushing for anything to happen overnight, and I don't think you should push yourself for my sake either. I get it."

All I could do was smile, my hand on her cheek flexing with the need to pull her closer. Before I could, she spoke again. "And Edward?"

I leaned in closer. "Yeah?"

She leaned in, too. Eyes falling to my lips. "No matter how long it takes, I'm not going anywhere."

"Yeah?" I said again, licking my bottom lip.

"Yeah," she whispered, breath warm across my lips. "And you know what else?"

I snapped my gaze away from her mouth, focusing my eyes on hers. "What?" My own voice was soft, gritty. Needing. I needed her. Like always.

She pressed her lips, barely there, against mine, speaking her words right into my mouth. "The closest liquor store is four blocks away." She sucked my bottom lip. "There's a church on the next street over that does meetings six days a week." She kissed my chin. My hand slid higher, into her hair. My heart fucking _pounded. "_And I haven't had a drink since the day Emmett told me what happened to you."

And I didn't have the words to respond. The words to convey exactly how she made me feel with just those words. They said she understood. That she really was in this. That she got how different my life was now, even if she hadn't been part of it for a long time.

So I told her, in the only way I could—with my lips—that I was in this, too.

* * *

**Yeah remember that promise I made? Who knew life was going to spiral out of control? Not me that's for sure. Updates won't be as frequent as they have been in the past, and I'm sorry for that, but I haven't forgotten this story and I will continue to post as often as I can. Thank you for reading and sticking with me. I appreciate it.**


	35. Chapter 35

8/24/2012: **Word Prompt**: Glass

* * *

My life had become completely unorganized, all in a matter of months. I wiped my forehead with the sleeve of my shirt, looking around as I hefted another empty box on top of the pile we'd started earlier that day. They were still everywhere. Piles of newspaper. Garbage bags. And mixed in between the mess were my things, waiting to find a home.

In my new place.

My new place less than thirty feet from the only thing more tempting to me than alcohol had ever been.

_Bella._

The same girl who now sat just on the edge of my kitchen counter, her legs dangling. She looked like a little kid in one of those too-big chairs, all short limbs reaching nowhere. Her hair was a mess, and the sweatshirt she wore hung loosely from one shoulder, showing off a glimpse of white skin I had not glimpsed in far too long. Even in all her disarray, she was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Catching my eyes on her, she smiled, wiping down another dust covered glass as she lifted it from a box. "You're really here," she commented, dropping it inside the dishwasher with a clink. We'd been surrounded by people most of the day: Em, Rose, my parents, and of course, my adorable little niece who'd distracted most of us from doing the work we should have been doing. We hadn't done much talking since I got back, and I was glad that now it was just Bella and me. So I smiled right back at her.

"I really am," I said.

She was still watching me. "I'm happy you decided to come home."

I chuckled. She'd only told me that about fifteen times in the last few weeks. "And you know I'm happy, too." I was. I _really _was. How could I not be?

In truth, Bella had been amazing right from the start of this whole 'plan to move back home.' The afternoon we'd come here together and looked at the condo, she'd put me in my place when I wavered about the future. About _our _possible future. She'd drilled the truth home: that she wanted me here. In Seattle. Hell, she wanted me upstairs. From her. She wanted more than that, too. And so did I. But she also understood that things weren't as simple as they were when we were teenagers. Life had changed us both, and while we may have felt ready for the next step, both of us knew deep down that we were a long way off from whatever the _next _step would be for us.

Just getting to this point felt like a battle I'd won.

After leaving Seattle in January, my plans went into motion. Carlisle and Esme were the first people I told, and despite their being happy for me, I knew it would be harder for them to say goodbye to me than it had been to any other patients from Breaking Dawn. Like Leah, I hadn't _just _been a patient to them. I was the son they'd never been able to have on their own. Carlisle had said so himself, on more than one occasion. And if Esme's tears were any indication, I knew she had to feel the same.

I didn't even have to tell Leah. All she had to ask was, "I was right, wasn't I, Pretty?" and she knew just by the look on my face. She had called it, and she wasn't angry like I'd sort of expected. She was happy for me—finally. The grumpy girl who'd questioned me endlessly about my choice to bring Bella back into my life seemed to have finally realized that the return had been pretty much inevitable. There are certain people you just can't shake, no matter what.

Bella was unshakable.

Once I'd broken the news, everything began to happen. I started packing, arranged for my things to be shipped across the country, and then sold my car—working from home, I didn't necessarily need it. Last, I booked my flight back to Seattle for the end of February.

I'd made the choice not to drive myself, knowing a journey like that would take days. And that there were hundreds of tiny towns between New Hampshire and Seattle that offered a million temptations I didn't want to put myself in the path of. Not that I feared relapse like I had before, because I was stronger now, but I felt it was better to be safe than sorry.

Yesterday when my flight had landed, I'd walked out toward baggage claim only to be surprised by several familiar faces, all waiting for me with smiles. My parents had driven up, Em and Rose had brought Annabelle, and of course, there was Bella. We'd all had a nice, noisy dinner. It felt a little like old times, even if it had been three years and hundreds of mistakes later.

When I held Bella's hand underneath the table—and she allowed it—I felt like the luckiest man alive.

My things weren't due to arrive until the following morning, so after dinner, we said goodbye to Em and Rose, and my parents headed to their hotel while I made my way home with Bella to our building. To my surprise, she'd offered up her couch a few weeks before while we chatted on the phone. At first, I hadn't been sure how to answer, but I couldn't say I wasn't excited—and a whole fucking lot nervous—over being in her space.

In the end, there was no way I would have been able to tell her no. And the glimpse I got into new Bella the moment I walked through her door last night was completely worth it. I liked seeing the new Bella, as opposed to the girl I endlessly want to associate her with. She'd become a different person while we were apart. She didn't like the same things; she was free to choose what she wanted, when she wanted it. Her apartment was pure, uninhibited Bella. Something I didn't think she'd shown me in a long time…possibly ever.

Bella's feet hitting the kitchen tile reminded me I wasn't alone, and that I'd gotten lost in my thoughts for a minute. She was breaking down yet another box. "Looks like everything in the kitchen has been put away," she said, bending over to load soap into my dishwasher. "Except for this last load of glasses."

"Thanks for doing that." My eyes wandered around the room. I had most of the things I needed, all except, "I really need to get a couch."

"You're welcome. " She laughed, I guessed at my unexpected couch comment. "And, there's a place not far from here; they have some pretty nice things. We can go look tomorrow if you want." She yawned behind her hand and, unable to fight it off, passed it along to me. "It's been a long day, and I still have to be up for work at six."

"It has," I agreed, stretching before I opened another box. "I just need to find my sheets and then— Ah hah! Got 'em." I held up the fabric and grinned at her. My pillows were in the same box.

As I tugged everything from the box, Bella yawned again, stretching her arms above her head. "Well, if you don't need me for anything else, I'm going to head home. I need to shower before I pass out."

"Hold on." I tossed the sheets aside and stepped over some boxes, nearly tripping as I went. I grinned as I straightened, pretending it hadn't happened. "I'll walk you down. " She may have been right downstairs, but it was dark out, and I hadn't totally forgotten how to be a gentleman.

She huffed. "Edward, I live fifteen steps away. I think I can manage."

As I approached, my hand reached for hers. Then I pulled out the big guns and widened my eyes. A trick that's worked for me hundreds of millions of times. "It's dark out."

She rolled her eyes. "In case you hadn't noticed, it gets this dark every night."

"Don't care," I said, reaching for the front door. I held it open for her with the hand not holding hers and waited for her to step out. Leaving my door open, I led her down the stairs and toward her own identical looking condo. As we approached, she pulled her keys from the pocket of her yoga pants.

She grinned. "Now I'm home safe and sound. Happy?"

I brought the back of her hand toward my lips, looking at her steadily as I kissed it. "You have no idea."

She stuck her key in the door, turning to look at me over her shoulder. "Goodnight, Edward."

I walked backwards, away from her, grinning as I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my jeans. "Goodnight, Bella."

.

.

.

I was up much too early the following morning as my body adjusted to the time change yet again. But that was a good thing. Bella was in school until four, and I hadn't just come here for her. There were things that I needed to do for _me_ as well. Work would begin when my vacation officially ended next week, but there was one thing I knew couldn't wait.

I made coffee, dressed and was on my way out the door before nine. Outside, there was a green post-it stuck to my door, the word 'dinner?' written across it and a small 'B' in the lower left corner. Since I knew she was in class, I pulled my phone out as I jogged down the stairs and headed in the direction of Community Church. I pulled up her name and sent off a quick text: '_My treat. –E_'

With my phone put away and silenced, I picked up my pace and glanced at my watch. I wanted to make an early meeting, not so much because I needed it, but because I wanted to get involved in the local AA community. I wanted to hopefully do for someone else what Leah had done for me. It was a big step, but it was one I felt more than ready for. I wanted to see someone else succeed and turn his life around the same way I had.

Inside Community Church, walking up to the podium to speak wasn't nearly as scary as it had been the times I'd done it before, because now, when I stood up there and said, "My name is Edward, and I'm an alcoholic," it was followed by the words: "I've been sober for three years, five months and six days," and a small burst of applause from the crowd that surrounded me.

"I've been living away from home since I got sober, and now I'm home to start rebuilding my life. I've learned every hard lesson there is. I lost…everything. My job, my home, my wife. But I'm back now, and I have a better job, a new home and a new relationship with the one girl I never thought I'd have another chance with. Things suck right now, trust me, I know." I took a breath, looking out and focusing on every pair of eyes I could. "I promise it gets better. It seems like it will never come, like you'll never stop waking up in pain, but one day, you will. And it'll be the first day of the rest of your life."

Once the meeting had ended, I mingled, drinking coffee and snacking on cookies. I met a few people who were around my age. Jessica, who'd been sober for almost a year. Mark, who was in his early stages of sobriety and fighting it with everything he had.

And lastly, I met Sue, who was the AA secretary, and the exact person who could help me with what I wanted to do.

After we'd spoken, and I shared more details of my journey with her, she introduced me to Jared. A twenty-one year old kid returning from the war who, after several failed attempts, had finally achieved his two-week chip.

At six-three, there weren't a lot of men who towered over me, but Jared certainly did. He had a good five or six inches on me. I wasn't accustomed to looking up to speak to anyone, but that's exactly what I did when I stuck out my hand and introduced myself to him with a handshake.

"Jared," he returned, squeezing my hand with a small smile. He'd kept his short military cut, hair buzzed close on the sides. On his right forearm were the words 'SEMPER FI' telling me he was definitely a Marine.

"Marines?" I asked anyway. It was a conversation starter.

"Yes, sir."

"Were you in Afghanistan?"

He nodded. "I was, sir."

"You can call me Edward."

He shrugged, grinning. "Old habits."

I decided right then that I liked that kid and if he was going to let me, I would do everything I could to get him back on the right path.

* * *

**Um, hi? Remember me? No? I don't blame you. I have no excuse for how long this took other than it did. Life's been a little out of sorts the past six months or so. I assure you again that I haven't forgotten this story, and no matter how long it takes, I will finish it. Thank you for reading.**


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